Foundations
by The Silver Lark
Summary: Before the war the Golden Trio decide to finish their finale year at Hogwarts. With shadows staining the halls and grieving families to deal with, how will the only girl in the Trio handle a new Professor?
1. Alone In The Dark

_Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling. This is my first attempt at femslash, so bear with me, eh? This is an AU that has the trio finishing their finale year before going off to hunt Horcruxs. Enjoy and review-Lark _

The halls seemed almost alien to her, though she knew they hadn't changed, nor had they in the past hundred years. Perhaps the castle itself was mourning Dumbledore's passing? It seemed a ridiculous concept, but the man himself had been the embodiment of all things ludicrous and impossible. Either way she shivered, his ghost may not have been strolling the walls reminiscing on the taste of lemon drops but there was definitely _something _different about the castle.

Hermione hugged her books to her chest subconsciously as she hurried through the halls that lacked their usual overpowering aura of safety and warmth. The other students didn't seem bothered by the apparent dimming of the castle's general atmosphere, but that didn't surprise Hermione. Only the portraits followed her train of thought as they huddled together in the broad easels.

She supposed Hogwarts was much like the old stories about muggle machines that ran purely on positivity. Without Dumbledore here the castle was fast dwindling its supplies and had thusly dimmed its protective aura to conserve power. She grinned to herself; she knew she was being highly illogical but had succeeded in cheering herself up, if only a little.

She knew she would find Harry in the library where he had taken to pouring over any book that could help him take down Voldemort. He had become surprisingly single minded in the three months since Dumbledore's death; perhaps that was his coping mechanism. For once, she felt no desire to go to the library, Harry was far too absorbed in his obsession to notice her and Ron's company hardly promised intelligent conversation.

She puffed out her cheeks and slid to the floor, leaning against the railing, the carefully carved metal poled digging into her skin. The clock tower held a kind of solitary charm that beckoned the lonely souls and offered them refuge on it's many levels. Hermione rested her head against the edge of the archway and gazed out into the night. Something about the whole situation sat wrong with Hermione, something at the core of her being told her this wasn't how it was supposed to be.

She wasn't the one who distanced themselves from the library and hid away in the depths of the castle. Dumbledore's death didn't just mark the true beginning of the war, it marked the ending of the way things had always been, the way things still should have been. She glared at the stars, putting every ounce of fury and frustration into the stare. Imagining she could clear the night sky of its tiny dancers with a single menacing glance. The stars danced, winked and twirled; if they were providing a response to Hermione's intense glare it was not in a language she could understand, or even begin to comprehend. Maybe the stars felt the same way about humanity. As each day passed even she understood it less and if she couldn't understand it, who could?

The great hall seemed out of proportion; far to large for the number of students it housed. If the number of students being withdrawn had been shocking the previous year it couldn't even hold a candle to the flame created this year. Every house except Slytherin had lost at least a third of their members and even the green house had suffered missing students. Some people found the disappearances frightening and others held those who left in contempt. Hermione just thought it made the students, like the castle they resided in, lonely.

"Miss Granger, Miss Granger?" A voice called, a faint echo surrounding the sound, as if she heard it through a veil of water. "Sorry, Professor," She apologized, offering McGonagall her full attention. "Quite all right, Miss Granger, we all have rather a lot on our minds of late," McGonagall nodded, her eyes misting slightly, clearly thinking back to whatever was plaguing her mind that particular morning. "Professor?" Hermione ventured, as McGonagall's gaze had remained misted as the Professor drifted off into deep thought. McGonagall heaved a deep uncharacteristic sigh before fixing Hermione with her gaze. "Miss Granger, I know you are close friends with Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley. I have been getting reports that Mr. Potter… Harry," She frowned slightly, "Has become rather withdrawn."

"You wish for me to speak to him?" She nodded agreeably.

"Yes, and keep an eye on him. It would not bode well for the Wizarding world to lose an icon such as Harry at this stage," She scowled, shadows descending into her irises, chasing out what little signs of youth she had left.

"Of course Professor," Hermione promised dutifully.

"Good," McGonagall nodded, the shadows retreating slightly, "Now, Hermione, it is not new knowledge that you are leading your year academically." Hermione nodded, flattery usually led to a particularly unpleasant extra curricular task but she found pride in it anyway.

"I believe Defense Against The Dark Arts is your weakest subject?" She probed and again Hermione nodded, apprehension creeping into her bones. "I have hired a dueling instructor to teach the seventh years. If we're going to send you into this fray, you need to know how to fight. That means no weaknesses Miss Granger."

"How do you mean, Professor?" Hermione scowled slightly, she disliked people picking at her weaknesses, Gryffindor pride and all. "I am assigning you extra dueling lessons. Though I wish it to be otherwise, you will undeniably need them in the coming years," McGonagall explained, a great heaviness descending on her face. "If you think it's a good idea Professor," Hermione agreed, slightly hesitant. The last person to teach her dueling had been Harry, something told her this teacher would not be as genial.

"The classes have been slotted into your time tables, your extra sessions will be on a Tuesday evening at five in the room of requirement," McGonagall informed her briskly, her business mask slipping onto her face and Hermione could no longer read the emotions in her eyes. Except for the weariness of course, but everyone worse the weary expression these days, it was like a contagious disease you just couldn't shake. Hermione wondered briefly what McGonagall would have done had she refused and a small, bitter smile graced her lips. She was Hermione Granger; she probably hadn't even considered the possibility of her refusing to take on the extra work. Everyone seemed to be changing except her; maybe she should jump on the bandwagon. She realized she was going to be late for her first class of the day and dashed from the hall. She would start being less high strung...tomorrow.

Her private dueling lesson arrived before the first she would share with her year and she was shuffling her books restlessly. Once, her irritation would have sparked a barrage of questions from Harry, now his head was in a book. Was this what the boys felt like when they spoke to her? "Hey 'mione, can you help me with my essay tonight?" Ron asked her, or at least that was her translation of what he said considering the large amount of food in his mouth. "I can't Ronald, swallow before answering," She sighed impatiently.

"Come on 'mione, just the introduction?" He begged.

"I have a class Ronald," She retorted, her tone slightly sharper than she intended.

"What class?" He snorted in disbelief.

"Never mind," She muttered quickly, he would take the mickey if he found out she needed extra help in a class. "But you still won't help me?" He deduced.

"No," She replied promptly, he needed to be responsible for his own grades; he was nearly eighteen for Pete's sake. "That's your finale answer?" He smirked. She shot him one last disgusted glare and stood up quickly. Maybe she would wait for the teacher at the room of requirement.

The castle seemed particularly ominous on the seventh floor and Hermione hurriedly raced to the stretch of wall that hid the Room of Requirement. It took her a moment to realize she had no idea what to ask for. She glared at the faded sandstone for a solid minute before a door began to materialize. She blinked, she hadn't asked for anything. When no one emerged she cautiously crept up to the door and pulled it open. She stepped into the dark room on the other side, the contrast from the corridor provided a small doorway of light but everything else was dark. Her heartbeat sped and her fingers gripped her wand tightly, sweat making her palms slick as she scanned the dark anxiously. The door snapped shut with an ominous click that told her it was locked. The darkness was complete, she could walk until she hit a wall, but knowing the nature of the room she was as likely to find a wall as a drop off that led directly to China. She stayed completely still; the only sound the abrasive rasp of her breathing. "The first rule of dueling, is to know your environment," A voice chuckled from somewhere in the darkness, female, but that was hardly a comfort. "You have five minutes before I begin attacking."

Hermione gasped and backed up until she hit a wall; good, one side an attack couldn't come from. "Good, now all you have to do is find me," The voice snickered and Hermione scowled. The words were carefully articulated, as if concealing an accent. Perhaps she had met them before? She raised a wand and cleared her mind, focusing on one word: _lumos. _Nothing happened. She squeezed her eyes shut to quell the panic, this was a teacher, she wouldn't be hurt. The hidden instructor seemed to follow her train of thought. "I will not kill you, but I have permission to harm you," The voice responded seriously. Hermione remained silent and moved slowly to her left, if her attacker could play stealthy, so could she. There must have been charms preventing lighting spells. Well, most spells gave off light, which meant she had to weigh the benefit of giving away her position and possibly finding the attacker or the negatives, that she wouldn't find her and she would have exposed herself. She edged over to what appeared to be a wardrobe and crouched behind it before focusing. She needed a serious spell or the attacker would catch onto her plan. "Tarantallegra!" She cried as a bolt of silver light illuminated the room and cast a shadow where her attacker stood.

She dove behind the wardrobe just as a spell streaked past her; "What happened to five minutes?" She shrieked.

"That was only if you didn't attack," A voice drawled in response.

"We didn't discuss that," Hermione shot back and she lowered herself to the ground and commando crawled to the other side of the room. "You didn't ask," The voice retorted and Hermione imagined her shrugging. Hermione sprung up and fired "Flipendo!" She barely had time to move before the attacker retaliated and she was hit full in the chest by a stunning spell.

Light rained from the ceiling and Hermione squinted, cringing painfully as her retinas protested. Footsteps approached but from her position on her back she couldn't see the person. She cursed mentally; surprising herself with the wealth of language she came up with. "Not exactly pathetic," The woman chuckled, "Rennervate." Hermione rolled to her feet and glared at her attacker; she only managed a flicker of hatred before surprise abolished all else. "Fleur," She blinked, surprise making her forget to add the usual dollop of disdain to her voice. "That would be Professor Delacour to you Miss Granger," She smirked. Blonde hair shone thick and silky under the bright light and Hermione blinked again to clear the last of the fuzziness. "You attacked me," Hermione muttered indignantly.

"I gave you fair warning," She laughed, her cherry lips lifting into a malicious Cheshire cat grin. Hermione took in a deep breath and martialed her composure and gave Fleur a contemptuous glance.

"Miss Granger, give me that look again and you will receive a detention," She smirked. "You-" Hermione protested.

"Can't? I am a professor."

"Your accent is gone," Hermione noted, changing the topic hurriedly.

"Non, it is suppressed," She chuckled, "Just as you could fake a French accent. Poorly too," She sniffed.

"Oh," Hermione frowned, "How is Bill?" She asked, latching onto a topic that wouldn't cause her to become annoyed. "I am a Professor and as such my personal life is of no consequence to you," She scowled.

"Jesus, here I was thinking some time with the Weasleys would make you less-" She caught herself before she finished the train of thought. "Less what?" Fleur enquired, approaching predatorily. She was inches from Hermione and glared down her nose at the girl, enjoying the height advantage. "Ah," Hermione stalled sheepishly. Fleur leant closer so her smirking lips hovered right before Hermione's nervous eyes. "Detention, tomorrow night, punishment for insulting a Professor," She grinned gleefully. Hermione held her tongue and gazed at her feet; Fleur chuckled, her breath puffing against Hermione's skin and the girl took a step back.

"How do we get out?" Hermione squeaked. Fleur smirked and leant forward, invading her personal space and laying a hand on the wall, trapping Hermione who coward against the stone. Fleur's blue eyes met Hermione's amber orbs evenly, blue glinting wickedly. "You find the button," She smirked and released the petrified girl as the door opened. Hermione cast a glance at the wall and noted the small button there, brown to blend in. She hurried to the door where Fleur was leaning languidly, blocking half the exit. Hermione squeezed past her, a blush creeping into her cheeks as limbs touched. She bolted away down the corridor, feeling more like a scared twelve year old than a mature eighteen year old. Something about that god damned French Woman intimidated her and Fleur damned well enjoyed it. Well, Hermione wasn't going to let it get to her, no chance in hell. She almost had herself convinced until she remembered the detention. Her control fell apart and she was left once more to pick of the wreckage the new _Professor (_she thought the word with pure loathing) left in her wake. Hermione wasn't to know she was only getting started.

_Wow, that was hard to write. I hope it wasn't OOC, please review and tell me what you think-Lark_


	2. Coffee And Ink

_Thank you for all the reviews! I was amazed when I logged on and saw the number. I hope the characters aren't ooc and that you enjoy the new chapter-Lark_

Hermione was still blushing fiercely as she rounded the corner to the common room. She paused and took in several deep breaths; there was an off chance Harry had put down his book for the night, which meant he would ask questions she didn't want to answer. Her worry was superfluous; Harry's eyes scanned the page of his book, his green eyes intense in their concentration. Ron was gazing vaguely into space, or rather; his eyes were gazing unfocusedly at the group of girl seated by the window.

Hermione was too tired to feel more than slight jealousy; it was becoming harder and harder to muster up. Perhaps it was for the best. The thought made her sad; things were changing, even when she didn't want them to. Yet the tighter she gripped onto the old ways the further they slipped away. Like pulling on a length of elastic that was so out of shape you knew in your heart of hearts it would never snap back.

She sunk into her seat opposite Ron and waited for him to slide his gaze to her. He took his time, apparently watching, fascinated, as Pavarti swung her school bag over her shoulders. Hermione tapped her quill against the parchment, considering how to word her introduction. She could probably write most of it before Ron thought to greet her. She had nearly made it to the body paragraphs the previous time. She wondered if Ron had always gawked at girls so much, or if she was noticing it now since Harry was no longer a distracting factor. A glance in his direction told her that he was not emerging from his thoughts for a conversation any time soon.

She made it two sentences into the first body paragraph before Ron acknowledged her presence for the first time. "Hey 'Mione, can you help with the potion's essay?" She sighed; she had expected a greeting of this kind but that hardly made it less tiresome. "I already said no, I have to finish mine," She refused as politely as possible. "Come on 'Mione," He begged, a whiny edge to his voice that was threatening to give her a headache. "No," She refused coolly and turned her attention back to her page.

"I'll fail," He moaned as she grit her teeth, "Harry, tell her she should help." Harry mumbled something unintelligible in response, which Ron took as agreement because he grinned triumphantly. Hermione took one look at the expression and gathered her things, angling for her dorm room. She wouldn't finish this with him minging in her ear all night and she had a detention tomorrow. The thought made her feel faintly sick, even after all these years. She was in detention and for once it was of her own fault, not some hair brained scheme of Harry or Ron's invention.

The essay did not lend itself to methodical explanation; the art of catching moonbeams was fraught with malpractice and lies. As such it took her a long time to be sure her fact were straight. The moon was hidden above the spires of the castle and the stars were performing their nightly dance. The breeze through creaking tree branches provided the melody that only the gods could fully appreciate. Hermione lay back, gazing out the window, loosing herself in the inky canvas of the night. Counting stars and wishing the stars would reverse and take her back to a simpler age.

Hermione still religiously received the Daily Prophet, not that it contained much truth or value any more. The articles assuring people that the Ministry had everything under control sat proudly beside scoops of murders and disappearances in full, lurid detail. In truth she only bought it for two reasons, firstly, it was an excuse not to talk to Ronald in the morning. Secondly, she found fretting about the bigger issues rather easier than fretting about the small ones. Currently her lips were downturned as she pursued an article about the death of a wizard by the name of Vincent Abercalm. Dead and disemboweled, though the writer was Rita Skeeter so the facts could hardly be trusted.

"Is that Fleur?" Ron asked rather loudly and Hermione flicked her eyes up to the teacher's table where Fleur was indeed seated. She looked casually bored; she had rejected the black robes traditional of a Professor and was instead dressed in a crisp white shirt and dark jeans. Hermione scowled, the woman was disrespecting the school in so many ways without even trying. It was an insult to Dumbledore's memory to have her sitting up there. "You right Hermione? I don't think that fork ever tried to hurt you," Ron noted with a smirk. Hermione blinked, realizing she was holding her cutlery in a death grip and blushed slightly as she released them. "I was thinking," She replied sheepishly.

"About someone you don't like apparently," Ron snorted and returned to shoveling food into his mouth with the ecstasy Hermione though was thoroughly out of place. That sort of expression should only be seen on the faces of those who had just had their life changed. A blind man's first sight, a mother's first child, a child's first field gold deserved the expression. It certainly was not to be seen daily as Ron gorged himself.

Would it kill him to have more manners? She hardly expected him to be feminine but he could aim for the level generally accepted my humans. As her thoughts turned to femininity her gaze retuned to Fleur. Fleur was handling her cutlery with precision and grace as she laughed at something Slughorn had said; though Hermione doubted it had actually been amusing. Grinding her teeth together she took a sip of coffee and returned to the paper. She read the articles without really paying attention, only pausing when she noticed a small add requesting Aurors. Hermione frowned; she would have expected them to have an overflow of applications as people dedicated themselves to protecting their homes. Apparently the masses were far more cowardly than she gave them credit for. Something about that irked her immensely.

Someone tapped on her shoulder and she turned, fully intending on lecturing them on proper etiquette. She was half way through the first word when she realized who it was. "Good morning, Professor," Hermione mumbled, gazing over the woman's left shoulder. "Bonjour 'ermione," She smiled; Hermione could just see her lips out of the corner of her vision. "What happened to Miss Granger?" Hermione shot back and instantly regretted it. When no response was forthcoming she raised her gaze to meet Fleur's eyes. Ice cold and she knows it. "Shall we make it two detentions, _'ermione_," Fleur drawled, accenting Hermione's name so it sounded more like a challenge than a taunt. "No, Professor," Hermione conceded.

"Fleur, it's great you're here!" Ron beamed; he seemed to have managed to swallow his food before speaking. Fleur turned her irises of ice on him and he froze in place; perhaps he was remembering the dismal time he had asked her out to the Yule Ball. The cruel smirk on Fleur's lips told Hermione that Fleur at least was recalling the day. Ron's eyes returned to his plate and he mumbled something along the lines of, "Could at least say hello."

"Your detention shall be at five o'clock, my office. You will require a quill," Fleur smiled, gazing down her nose at Hermione. Never had Hermione wished she were taller more than at that moment. Hermione had been subjected to many forms of torment during her life but rarely, if ever was she patronized. She certainly didn't like it. "Of course Professor," She replied, her voice sweet and innocent as she seethed on the inside. "Where is your office?"

"Bore others with your incessant questions," Fleur sneered and Hermione scowled.

"I'll find it on my own then," Hermione shrugged, her face carefully composed.

"Good, don't be late, or, pourvre con, there shall be consequences," Her eyes glinted, like white light off pure ice. "Consequences?" Hermione paled considerably. "Come on Fleur, give Hermione some slack," Ron grinned, clearly having decided to take another crack at the veela. Poor fool, just as Fleur had called her. "Le cerveau il etait en option chez toi, non?" Fleur chuckled and left him there, mouth handing open slightly as he tried to guess what she had said.

Hermione allowed herself a tiny smirk as she translated the insult before the thought of more detentions came crashing down. She dove into her bag to find her timetable; a literal dive, her head vanished inside the cavernous carrier as she moved aside books. She scanned her timetable; fretting about the lack of opportunities she would have to find the office. She was bordering on panic, the kind of panic only a true teachers pet could experience, when she realized that her third class of the day was dueling. There was the teacher's name in incriminating black font: Fleur Delacour. Hermione glared into space miserably; she wondered if Harry felt this bad when he got detention? She shot a glance at him; hair unruly and lips slightly downturned, which seemed to be their only position these days. Somehow she doubted he fretted nearly as much as she was currently, then again, she doubted any one did.

For once, Hermione was not the first to class; in fact, she was the third last. She had 'forgotten' a book at the library and gone back to get it. In truth she didn't want to be left alone with Fleur. She told herself it was because any conversation she held with the new Professor would most likely only lead to detention but really she was scared. Something about the blonde scared her as much as the manic witch Bellatrix Lestrange, not in the same way admittedly, but in equal measure. There were different kinds of dear, Hermione decided, and they could be ordered in potency. Many kinds of fear were irritating but held their uses; like the fear of a man wielding an axe that told you to run, or the fear of certain creatures that taught you to avoid them. This fear however, was useless, as far as she could tell any way. Fleur was not poisonous, dangerous or deadly, at least as far as Hermione knew, nor was she a lethal creature. She was wrong on three of the four, but she didn't know that, but people learn. That's what fear is for.

Hermione slid into a seat at the back of the class, noticing without any real curiosity that the front two rows were made up entirely of guys. Fleur was seated at the desk, posture relaxed and eyes gazing up at the ceiling. When she lowered she pointedly met the gaze of all the students, one after the after. Cobalt met butterscotch and Fleur's lips quirked into an unreadable smirk. She rose gracefully to her feet, her height increased by towering stilettos. "I am teaching here this year upon request of Professor McGonagall. She believes it is of the upmost importance that you can defend yourself when the time comes. I say when not if, because it is most definitely going to be a case of _when," _She fixed them in place with an intense stare. Hermione found herself fascinated and constantly had to fight to keep an expression of interest off her face. "The only real question is which side you will exercise your skills on. Be it the Death Eaters or your fellow students and their families. I suggest you choose carefully when the time comes. The problem is that people often only choose wisely, once all other easy options have been exhausted."

The class was watching her raptly but Hermione wondered how many focused on the words and not the slender figure and graceful cherry lips. She pulled herself back to reality, mentally slapping herself for getting sidetracked with such odd observations. "I believe it is best if you divide into pairs and duel so I can garner an idea at what standard you all fight," She instructed. Chairs scraped back as people hurriedly gathered partners, eager to show off. Harry and Ron paired off and she was left alone. In most subjects people practically begged to be her partner because it all but guaranteed them an O. When it came to facing the best student in the year at a duel the number of volunteers was, unsurprisingly, lacking. The numbers finale drained away until she and Neville were left alone. They nodded to each other and joined the formation the others had formed, standing ten feet apart and raising their wands.

"We shall proceed one pair at a time, I will offer sparing help, today is for observation, from then on it is for teaching," She nodded to the first pair who eagerly threw spells at each other. As ready to attack a friend as a hungry dog is to devour a bone. The match didn't last long; it ended with Dean falling back, stunned as Seamus grinned like a self-satisfied cat. "The power and speed are there, but in a duel one can not fight second by second. You must plan, dueling is more about strategy than even chess," Fleur intoned, face blank as she moved on to watch the next pair.

The whole class fell silent as Harry and Ron faced off, Harry calm and composed as Ron worried the grip of his wand. "Incarc-" Ron cried but Harry's silent spell was released faster and Ron leapt from its path with a squeak. Harry's second spell came half a second later and Ron was frozen in place. Hermione watched Harry levelly; clearly he had been studying more then Horcruxes. "Harry is at the level I had hoped all of you would be at," She announced as a lot of people smiled sheepishly; they were no-where close and knew it. Hermione steeled her mind; it was her turn to duel next. Neville was sweating profusely and he seemed to be suffering a slight nervous tick of the lips. Fleur smirked and nodded, a clear command to begin as her azure eyes sparkled with amusement.

"Expelli-" Neville began but Hermione was faster, her Rictusempra dead on course…until it just bounced off in a random direction. Students scattered as cast the duelers nervous glances. Neville was preparing so curse her again so she fired off three spells in sequence: Salvio Hexia, to block Neville's curse, confundus and impedimenta. The second and third were offensive spells and shot forwards only to bounce off once more. "Finite Incantatum!" she cried and the air shimmered ever so slightly, but the spell was still in place. Whoever had cast this particular protection was powerful and most certainly not Neville. She shot Fleur the most murderous glance she could muster in current situation and the witch returned it with a Cheshire cat grin. Hermione swept her wand through the air and a blast of wind knocked the entire class backwards and effectively shattered the shield. A well-placed Deprimo spell sent Neville sprawling as his wand spun away.

Hermione was panting slightly as she stepped back and lowered her wand, there was no doubt as to who the victor was. "Miss Granger is the victor, but she made several mistakes," Fleur smirked and sauntered over to Hermione, standing too close for Hermione's comfort. "I cast a protective charm to prevent Miss Granger touching Neville. The match was very uneven. It is not, however, uncommon for a second wizard to protect the first in a duel and one should always be wary of this. Miss Granger should have noticed the spell earlier and removed it quickly rather than continuing to attack," She smirked. Hermione grit her teeth and didn't respond, she had no doubt Fleur was baiting her. "I want a list of reasons on how to improve your dueling and suggestion for lessons, to be on my desk by the end of the lesson."

"Sorry Neville," Hermione murmured as he passed her.

"It's alright, no damage," He smiled; she supposed it wasn't. People were used to her beating them, it was on the days that she lost that things could turn ugly. "Miss Granger," Fleur called. Hermione bit her tongue to stop the moan of annoyance passing through her lips.

"Yes Professor?" She asked dutifully, walking back over to Fleur but keeping a five-foot distance between them. "Some of you wand work is sloppy, come here," She beckoned.

Hermione approached reluctantly and nearly jumped when the older witch placed her palms of Hermione's shoulders. "Raise your right arm to ninety degree's," She instructed and Hermione obeyed. She was acutely aware of the stares and glares of her classmates and she blushed. "Now flick you wrist," Fleur commanded and once more she obeyed. "No sharper than that," Fleur sighed in frustration and stepped closer. Hermione turned crimson and Fleur slid one hand along her arm and out to her wrist. Fleur was behind her, radiating heat and causing Hermione to blush intensely at the proximity, Fleur was pressed flush against her back and her breath puffed in Hermione's ear. "Flick," Fleur murmured and controlled Hermione's wrist with her hand and guided her through a sharp flick and swish motion. "Good, go finish the task 'ermione," Fleur smirked as Hermione squeaked a thanks and fled back to her seat.

Her face was crimson and she refused to meet anyone's eyes as she sat down. Ron gazed at her jealously, "What do I have to do to get some special help?" He murmured, voice dazed and eyes dreamy. "I don't like people being that close," Hermione muttered and turned to her work. Fleur knew she didn't like it and that was the _exact _reason she was going to demolish the girl's idea of personal space. She found a significant amount of pleasure in doing it to. Her lips lifted into a Cheshire cat grin; crimson to match Hermione's cheeks.

Hermione fled from the classroom at the end of the period and realized far too late that she hadn't found out where Fleur's office was. That left her with two options; risk being late for the detention considering she had no idea where the office was, or seek out the woman during the lunch hour. How many times would the goddamned woman's company be thrust upon her in one day? She was deeply disappointed that she had to choose between two evils again. There was a grinning devil at the end of both paths and Hermione could only imagine Fleur's reaction were she late. In fact, she couldn't imagine Fleur's reaction and in the end, that's what scared her the most.

_Le cerveau il etait en option chez toi- the brain was optional for you?_

_I will go into and explain Harry and Ginny's relationship as well as Fleur and Bills in the next few chapters. Maybe a bit about Ron and Hermione as well. Consider the extra long and early chapter a reward for all the lovely feedback I've received. Thanks for reading and please review-lark_


	3. Between The Moon And The Sun

_Jk Rowling owns Harry Potter. Thank you for following and reviewing, this is a different genre to what I usually write so it's great to hear I'm doing an ok job. All suggestions and constructive criticism welcome. If anyone would be interested in being a BETA to help me write some M scenes later on pm me. Review and please enjoy-Lark_

Hermione's mood was well and truly sour by the time lunch rolled around and she was able to rest mind. At least that had been the plan; as it stood she was fretting restlessly about her detention. She didn't have a clue where Fleur's office could be. Unlike other teachers who took the office of their predecessor, Fleur had no predecessor. When she arrived at the Gryffindor table and slipped her bag from her aching shoulders, it was to find that she wasn't hungry in the least.

Ron arrived and sat next to her, perhaps a little too close, considering he knew she disliked people invading her personal bubble. She shot the red head a glance out of the corner of her eyes; he had wasted no time in tucking in. His cheeks were bulging like a chipmunk stashing nuts. She wondered briefly if he had actually managed to unhook his jaw in order to fit all the food inside. She swirled the juice in her goblet around, finding the patterns it made more interesting than the thought of actually drinking it.

At the end of the previous year she and Ron had grown close; not in a 'best friends forever' sense, but in an 'I could love you forever' sense. Somehow, over the summer it had faded, like a briefly burning candle. He just felt like the same old Ron again; the goofy ginger she had met on a train when she was eleven. His cheeks had been stuffed in much the same way on that occasion. Some things never changed. She wondered if he still felt the strong affection for her that he had shown at the end of the previous year. If he did, he was certainly not wearing his heart on his sleeve. Or keeping his eyes in one place.

Harry and Ginny were another matter over which she often worried; if Harry had distanced himself from her, he had done the same to Ginny tenfold. They barely spoke over the summer and if he were alone with Ginny he would find the closest book. Hermione felt badly for Ginny, she really did, but Harry still loved her. Of that Hermione was sure, she could see it in those emerald eyes, so clouded with shadows of late, every time he looked at her. If only a glance. Whatever honor system Harry subscribed to, it was driving Ginny insane and through association, Hermione. Cupid seemed to be absent from Hogwarts; maybe Fred and George had him locked up brewing love potions. The thought made her smile; picturing a cherub locked in a cage in a room bathed by the rose light of a love potion brewing, as George stood and made bad romance jokes.

"You're smiling," Ron noted, "What's so funny?"

"Never mind," She blushed; he would certainly find it suspicious if she started talking about cupid out of the blue. "You've got detention with Fleur tonight, right?" He asked around a mouthful of garlic bread.

"Yes, do you happen to know where her office is?" She sighed.

"Why would I know?" He shrugged, slightly defensive.

"Cause guys like to chase a pretty skirt," She rebutted, taking a sip of the juice though she didn't really want it. It tasted wrong in her mouth, too sickly sweet at the same time as lingering bitterly on her tongue. Perhaps that was just her mental state manifesting itself into a physical outcome.

"So you think I'd stoop to stalking Fleur?" Ron asked and though she couldn't see his face she knew he was heading towards angry.

"I merely thought you may know because you are friends," Hermione phrased carefully.

"We're not and you know it," He snapped, his voice rising in pitch as he turned sulky. "Fine, I thought you might have sourced it out," Hermione spat heatedly, "You usually waste no efforts in chasing skirt. Gods knows if you would have any idea what to do with a girl if you ever managed to get one."

"I don't see a guy on your arm either," He sneered and Hermione blinked. She didn't really understand how the conversation had turned into an argument of such intensity in a space of three minutes. She also had no real idea how making a stab at her love life, or his, fit into the conversation either. She had started it however and damned if she wasn't going to finish it. "I could get one if I wanted," She spat.

"You'd probably scare them off with your 'fierce intellect'," He quoted his fingers in the air, body language tense and eyes burning with an unimaginable anger. It seemed he had been storing up bitterness and anger just as she had and they had unwittingly become the other's emotional punching bag. "At least I have an intellect," She shot back, aware they were starting to draw stairs, but for once, she didn't care. "You watch girls like they're meat and follow them around like a lost dog, and yet they never want you back. How many girlfriend's have you had, Ron?" She demanded cruelly, eyes as hard as flint.

"One, and you've had Vicky, guess that makes us even," He growled.

"I've had three boyfriends, including _Victor_," She corrected him with a sense of vindictive pleasure. "Oh and who were these imaginary boys?" Ron laughed loudly, coarsely.

"Muggles; you should try talking to some. If pureblood propaganda is to be believed they are probably around your intelligence level," She snarled. She grabbed her book back and swung it over her shoulder, standing in a swift, angry movement.

"Run away Hermione, go back to the library, I bet the books don't talk back," Ron called as she stormed out of the hall. "The only attention you get is for your grades." Hermione spun and fixed him with a glare before her lips quirked into a dangerous smile that was highly out of character. "That's not what your brother said when he was tuning me last summer." There was a chorus of 'oohs' from the students who were tuning into the lunch hour drama. Hermione ignored them and fled from the hall, not leaving Ron with any opportunity for a comeback. Her face was frozen in a mask of fierce anger and her eyes burned with passion; she looked like a woman on a mission and if anyone were to cross her path they would be justifiably afraid.

This fierce Hermione lasted all of five minutes, or the time it took for her to reach a deserted corridor and slump against the wall. Tears streamed down her face as she ran through the fight again in her mind. Analyzed Ron's micro expressions, the anger in his eyes, and the spite in his tone. They had fought before, but never like this, could they ever recover from this? She wiped her eyes and watched as a perfect teardrop trailed down her finger, leaving a wet trail in its wake. Much like the damage left by a missile, yet so much more destructive.

"Bonjour, 'ermione," An amused voice greeted but Hermione didn't even glance up. If she did she feared her tearstained face and running mascara would only lead to further mockery she wouldn't be able to process in her current state. "Have you found my office yet?" Fleur's smirk turned to a frown when Hermione didn't respond. Fleur extended a hand and lifted Hermione's chin, blinking when she saw the tear tracks and the golden eyes filled with sadness too deep for a seventeen year old to possess. "What has sparked tears from eyes as hard as yours?" She asked carefully.

"None of your god damned business," Hermione hissed, though her voice lacked its usual intensity of hatred and superiority. Hermione slowly began to come back to herself, shutting the sadness back into its little box tied tight with chains. Chains stronger than any belief she held about not letting out your emotions.

All she wanted to do was sleep, emotional outbursts always took away all her energy and she was left hollow and vacant eyed. Now Fleur was here and she just couldn't call up the forces of sarcasm and superiority to defend her. She was caught in a constant battle, fighting wars on both sides, Ron and Fleur. Caught between the sun and the moon. "Ma chaton, why are you crying?" Fleur persisted and Hermione was caught by surprise as Fleur wiped a tear from her cheek with gentleness than startled her. Harry and Ron could be sweet and caring, but never managed to be _that _gentle. "I got in an argument," Hermione admitted after a lengthy pause.

"About an affair of the heart I assume? I doubt anyone could reduce you to tears in an argument of the mind," Fleur half smiled. Hermione brushed off the compliment, after all, it was just another compliment, she had received a thousand. _All _for her intelligence. "An argument with Ron," Hermione elaborated, as if that completely explained that it was certainly _not _an argument of intelligence. "Mon mignon," Fleur smiled sympathetically, "Are you alright?"

Hermione blinked, she had expected either a cool brush off, or, had it been one of her friends, a thousand questions. "Ye-" Hermione stopped herself, "No."

"Why ever not, ma petite?" Fleur asked, gently, sitting in front of Hermione, her legs crossed. Hermione supposed the situation was almost laughable; a teacher was sitting cross-legged on the floor comforting a student who was repeatedly rude to them and whom they enjoyed tormenting. "We were going to be- but then," She trailed off and gazed at her feet. She was wearing the mismatched socks Dobby had given her for Christmas; one a lurid purple and the other an azure blue. "I see," Fleur replied shortly, her tone was somewhat sharp and Hermione glanced up to meet Fleur's cobalt gaze. It was still icy but there was warmth to the ice that hadn't been there before. "Do not let him get to you, Mon Chou," Fleur suggested and ghosted her palm over Hermione's hair.

Hermione rose to her feet slowly, wiping tears from her cheeks as she did so, Fleur still managed to be on her feet first. "Thank you, Fleur," Hermione nodded; voice as sincere as she could manage. "It is still Professor Delacour to you, 'ermione," Fleur replied, her mischievous smirk back in place, "Do not force me to give you another detention."

"Sorry Professor," She apologized hastily.

"Then I shall see you tonight," Fleur smirked and strolled off, passing a ghost with the ease even Hermione was yet to manage around the specters. "Professor!" Hermione called after her, "Where is your office?"

"If you want a route to it, you shall find it, but you will have to ask carefully," She replied, the Cheshire cat grin in place, "And only if you truly need it."

"Professor, that doesn't make any sense," Hermione pleaded.

"Well then you are in a rather sticky situation, non, mon chaton?" Fleur smirked wickedly. She was gone before Hermione could even summon the will power to answer. Fleur had slipped past her again and she still didn't know where the office. She was enjoying a day straight from her personal hell and it didn't look like it was going to change.

She didn't return to the common room after dinner, opting instead to wander the corridors in search of Fleur's office. She even resorted to asking teachers and ghosts but they all merely shrugged. Either they didn't know or the end of the day made them about as amicable as the students they overworked. She had managed to avoid Ron for the rest of the day and Harry, who had been present for the fight, was yet to say anything. She was beginning to doubt her sweet, bumbling but courageous best friend would never make reappearance. The thought saddened her greatly. A sense of desperation rose in her breast as five o'clock rolled nearer and she was no closer to finding the office. Hogwarts would take days to search entirely, and that was without the added magical nooks and crannies. She highly doubted Fleur was going to give her leeway for being late, let alone failing to show up.

"Show up when I need it most? I need it now!" Hermione hissed, then stopped dead in her tracks. "You have to ask right," She murmured before laughing, at herself, at the situation and most of all at the goddamned veela who couldn't possible have a normal office. She changed direction and sprinted for the seventh floor. She came to a halt opposite the painting of the dancing trolls, chest heaving and sharp pants escaping her lips as she begged the wall for the office. Of course the office wasn't the room of requirement, but the room could give her a passage there and from then on she would be able to find it. The vast door appeared and she yanked it open, jogging down the softly lit corridor and pulling open the door on the other end. She recognized where she was the minute she stepped back into the publically walked corridors. She hadn't known the clock tower held any office space and was relieved the room had shown her the way, else she would not have found it.

She raced towards the only door in sight and knocked, glancing at her watch and freezing as she noted it was a quarter past five. "Come in," Fleur's silky voice called and Hermione entered sheepishly. "Ah Miss Granger," Fleur smirked; she was reading a book, her feet on the desk. The office was sparingly, but tastefully furnished. "Please, take a seat," Fleur instructed, motioning to the chair in front of her desk. Hermione sat, twiddling her thumbs nervously and doing her very best not to look Fleur in the eye. Fleur leant forwards and placed her chin in her hands, a dangerous smirk playing on her lips. "Just what am I going to do with you?" She chuckled, flicking her wand as the door locked with an ominous click. Hermione swallowed fearfully, she had a strong feeling she was going to regret being late.

_Cliff hanger, of a kind in any case. There was a bit of an explanation about Ron and Hermione in this chapter. I'll go into Harry and Ginny later, and Harry in general, he's been rather anti-social so far. You got to see Fleur's softer side in this chapter, before she snapped right back to normal. So, please review, the more reviews, the faster the updates. Thanks for reading-Lark_


	4. Anatomy Lessons

_Jk Rowling owns Harry Potter not me. I'm changing the rating to m to be safe. Thank you for following guys; please enjoy the chapter and review-lark_

"I- I'm afraid I don't know what you mean, Professor," Hermione stuttered.

"You are already becoming a repeat offender, 'ermione," She smirked, leaning back in her chair and stretching languidly. "Repeat offender?" Hermione asked, uncertainly.

"Why yes, you seem constantly disrespectful in class and you have the nerve to arrive late for detention," She smirked maliciously.

"I had to find your god damned office," Hermione hissed, her patience wearing thin. "Cursing is no language for a lady," Fleur reprimanded, "And will do naught to get you out of detention."

"Well, it is exceedingly difficult to find you office, I was not aware there were even rooms in the clock tower," Hermione replied, polite tone edging with sarcasm.

"There are many things you are not aware of, 'ermione," Fleur sneered silkily.

"Of course, Professor," She ground out.

"So we return to our original predicament," Fleur smirked and leant further across the desk, "Whatever shall we do with you?"

"Ah, lines?" Hermione suggested half-heartedly.

"Lines?" Fleur chuckled, surveying the squirming student over the ridges of her knuckles, "You believe lines to be sufficient?"

Hermione swallowed, the way Fleur said it made her feel ridiculous for even suggesting the punishment; as if hanging would have been more fitting. "Yes," She replied, ashamed as her voice scaled a few notes. She was not used to feeling like this, not since Voldemort returned and she convinced herself to become stronger. "Well," Fleur sighed heavily, "I do not."

"What do you have in mind then, Professor?" Hermione asked tensely. Fleur chuckled, a low, husky sound that made Hermione feel like she was being laughed at and brought a blush to her cheeks. "I shall give you, how you say, an ultimatum?" She smirked slyly.

"What ultimatum?" Hermione queried, eyes narrowed.

"The next dueling class is tomorrow, Gryffindor and Slytherin are together," Her azure eyes flashed and her smile turned cruel, "I will pair you with Draco, and you will lose, on purpose."

"No," Hermione refused stubbornly, crossing her arms and fixing a scowl on her face. "No?" Fleur chuckled, sliding lethargically from her seat. Hermione clenched her fists against the arms of the chair; she didn't like the glint in Fleur's eyes. Her rarely active instincts were telling her that something was most definitely not right. "All right then," Fleur chuckled, circling behind Hermione and resting her palms on the girl's shoulders. "A trade perhaps, I will let your obvious lack of etiquette slide, if you tell me why it is you were crying in the hallway, the full reason."

"That is hardly appropriate," Hermione refused.

"Hmm?" Fleur chuckled, breath puffing against Hermione's ear, the younger girl could feel the heat radiating off her Professors body. She must have been leaning in very close. "Then you shall lose to Monsieur Malfoy."

"No," Hermione refused again, pride warring with dignity.

"I'm afraid there is no third option, Miss Granger," Fleur smirked, her cheek brushing against Hermione's as she leant forward. "What if I refuse on both accounts?" Hermione persisted stubbornly.

"I could make your life very miserable, 'ermione," She giggled, "And I would find great pleasure in doing so."

'That sounds like a threat, Professor," Hermione sneered, "Teacher's aren't allowed to threaten students."

"I can be a very convincing liar, 'ermione, I suggest you do not test my skills, choose one of the options given," Fleur replied languidly. She strolled back around to lean on the desk, fixing Hermione with her playful cobalt gaze. She laid a hand against Hermione cheek as her cherry lips lifted into a crimson smirk, "Do you really want to tempt me, 'ermione?"

"Tempt you? To threaten me?" Hermione blinked, she suspected she was missing something, like a large gaping hole in the bridge to safety.

"I'll ask you again, Miss Granger," Fleur repeated lazily, "Choose." Hermione glared at her, bronze meeting sapphire in a battle of wills that Hermione knew she was going to lose. "Ron and I had a fight," Hermione murmured softly, gaze fixed on Fleur's shoulder. "About, ah, well I'm not sure. It started as a conversation and suddenly we were arguing about past relationships and saying the most horrible things to each other. I called him dim and he labeled me as unlovable, noticed only for my grades."

Hermione noted Fleur's breathing was slightly accelerated and her hands clenched slightly. "But we were only really taking out our emotions on each other," She whispered, growing quieter as she spoke. "We were just venting frustration, anger, sadness, everything we've gone through in the past twelve months."

"You have been feeling overwhelmed?" Fleur guessed and Hermione couldn't guess at her tone. "Yes, and afraid," Hermione admitted, wrapping her arms around her waist to hold in the anxiety. A gentle hand rested on her knee, manicured nails resting coldly against the exposed skin. Hermione glanced up at Fleur, who was watching her with an unreadable expression. "Everybody is afraid, 'ermione," She murmured, voice gentle. Hermione watched her carefully; she wondered how long this gentle Fleur would last this time. "I know, but I shouldn't be," She murmured.

"'Ermione," Fleur sighed, free hand resting against Hermione's cheek while her left remained on the girls knee, "A Gryffindor spirit may only go so far."

"I have to keep being strong," Hermione argued, "For Ron, for Harry."

"Perhaps," Fleur shrugged and Hermione could practically see the kindness draining from her eyes. Did the veela have split personalities? If she did there was no question as to which was dominant. "I believe that will do for your punishment."

"Yes, Professor," Hermione murmured, casting her eyes down to where Fleur's hand still rested on her knee. Heat rose in Hermione's cheeks and the reaction did not escape Fleur's notice. The veela dug her nails into Hermione's skin slightly before drawing away. Hermione hurried to her feet and to the door, hand halfway to the handle when she remembered Fleur had locked it. "Unlock the door," Hermione murmured.

"I didn't detect a please in there," Fleur smirked.

"Please," Hermione added, voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Now 'ermione, we may be done with detention for now, but I will not hesitate to give you another," Fleur grinned.

"For a single word out of line?" Hermione frowned.

"It is oh so easy to find reasons to punish 'ermione," Fleur smiled lopsidedly, "And you are so fun to taunt."

"That is hardly appropriate conduct," Hermione complained.

"I would be happy to reinvent your idea of inappropriate conduct, 'ermione," Fleur smirked, sashaying closer. "P-professor?" Hermione stuttered as Fleur paused before her. A slim hand slid to her waist as Fleur's blue eyes twinkled mischievously. Fleur's face hovered inches from hers, cherry lips grinning in malicious amusement. "The door in unlocked 'ermione," She teased, "Unless you wish to stay." Her hand trailed lower, long nails brushing against Hermione's hip and lower until Hermione stepped back, a deep scarlet tint to her face. "You really shouldn't joke about things like that, Professor," She gasped.

"Things like what?" Fleur smirked.

"I will see you in class, Professor," Hermione muttered, still deep red as she swung the door open. "Yes, do not give me reason to give you another detention, I may have to become more creative." Hermione scurried out the door and down the corridor, trying very hard not to see the meaning to Fleur's words.

_Following Fleur_

Fleur watched the girl leave, a slight smirk still gracing her lips as the door shut with a snap. She knew that she should perhaps not taunt the girl, it was hardly fair; but Fleur's empathy was far outstripped by her natural veela instinct. The veela in her wanted to peruse the girl, wanted to take her, to claim her. To mark her so obviously that no other person would ever dare come near. Hermione was what the veela craved so strongly, intelligent, strong willed and stubborn. Not to mention the sexual tension any teenager as repressed, as she was likely to have stored.

The veela wanted nothing more than to tap into that, to give the girl an outlet. Hermione wasn't there yet, wasn't close enough to letting go of her control. Fleur would persist, she would tease and taunt until the girl was nearly driven mad. Like a Venus fly trap luring in an insect, Hermione would go to Fleur. She would beg and plead until she was a wreck and then Fleur would take her. Only if she still felt like it. Often when veela hunted they lost interest in their prey once it broke. Something about Hermione told Fleur she wouldn't break, in which case, Fleur would turn her submissive. There was no such thing as a submissive veela and there was never going to be. Fleur was just going to keep pushing her in the right direction, and she was going to relish every second of it.

_With Hermione_

Hermione stopped outside the library, mind whirling; Fleur always messed with people, but this, this was on a whole different scale. She felt violated somehow, like she was being claimed, more like a possession than a person. She shuddered and ran a hand back through her hair as she entered the library. She felt safe amongst the books, safe and normal, like nothing had changed between first and seventh year. She wandered the shelves, spotting Harry sitting in a far corner, head buried in yet another book. Was she really like that as well? She shook it off and noted that she was in the magical creatures section of the library. Without really thinking she looked around until she found a book on the veela. Maybe it would explain Fleur's shifting moods. She took the book to the table where Harry sat and he glanced up at her as she sat down.

"I heard you and Ron got in a fight," He muttered. Hermione scowled, which had to be the first thing he said to her in days. "What's new?" She sighed.

"You shouldn't fight," Harry retorted, his attention already returning to his book.

"You should try and talk every now and then. If you did Ron and I might have something to talk about that doesn't cause a fight," She snapped and instantly regretted it. "I am doing my best with what I am given," He replied tautly.

"But we're here to help you too, Harry," She begged.

"Really?" He challenged.

"Of course, Harry," She replied instantly, though something about the light of his eyes cautioned her hastiness. "I don't see you here with me every day," He retorted.

"You've never asked," She shot back, slightly defensive.

"Why do I have to?" He muttered.

"You can hardly expect us to seek out your company these days," She replied coldly, "You pushed us away, why do you want us back?"

"Because I can't do this on my own," He forced out, looking up at her with anguished emerald eyes. "Harry," She murmured, gaze softening as she reached out for his hand. He pulled it just out of her reach and flicked his eyes back to the table, "I just don't want you to be hurt," He murmured.

"We'll stay with you Harry," She vowed.

"Thank 'mione, could I have some time to think?" He asked, attempting a smile. She returned it and stood up; anything to help him to his feet. "I'll talk to you later," She smiled and angled further into the shelves.

Hermione was hidden in the deepest recess of the library, surrounded by dusty history volumes that even she hadn't read. She sat down on the carpet as clouds of dust rose to greet her and settled on her clothes and the cover of the book she carried. She flicked it open and lit her wand as she traced the contents page with a finger. The book was not specifically on Veelas, but it held a rather large section on them. She flicked open to the behavioral page and was soon scowling at the information before her. It plainly stated that Veelas were territorial and possessive of what was there's. Once a Veela decided something or someone was there's the person was pretty much doomed. Sort of like the ultimate, infallible cock block. It also stated that they were notorious teases and that the vast majority of their relationships were purely physically based and that they moved on as soon as their lover was drained.

She flicked over the page to characteristics, ways of spotting Veela, of acting around them, of avoiding the thrall. She was lost in the page about location and cross breeding when she became aware of someone leaning over her and hot breath raising hairs on the back of her neck. "A bit of light reading, 'ermione?" An amused voice asked. "Yes, as a matter of fact if is," Hermione retorted in what she hoped was a fearless tone. Arms wrapped languidly around her waist and she was bombarded with the scent of vanilla and musk. "Cute," She laughed, breath puffing in her ear as legs stretched out on either side of her. The veela was getting comfortable, which made Hermione believe _she _wasn't about to be going anywhere either. "You know, 'ermione," Fleur drawled, pulling them together uncomfortably close, "There are much faster ways to learn about Veela habit and anatomy than reading a book."

_Another chapter done! This paring is both hard and fun to right, and I can't help but make my version of Fleur a little cruel and a major tease. Idea's appreciated, still looking for a beta. Reviews would be loved, thanks for reading-Lark_


	5. Love Is Fleeting

_JK Rowling owns Harry Potter not me. Thank you to all the people who reviewed, who keep track of this story and just anyone who reads it. Your feedback is amazing and most appreciated. This chapter is dedicated to Passionate Romantic01, Zelda's Hero, Kittysquyres, JuliBee, Misheard Lyrics and C.C. Please enjoy-Lark _

"I quite like the reading method," Hermione retorted, fighting to keep her voice even. She wasn't exactly afraid of Fleur, but she was so unpredictable, she could land herself permanent detention with one wrong world. Which was rather rich, in Hermione's books, as she was practically being groped, but there were no repercussions for that. Hermione turned her gaze back to the words, but her concentration was broken when Fleur shifted, effectively shifting her as well; further into the corner as it were. "Ah P-professor?" Hermione stuttered, hating herself for blushing. She always reverted back to shy Hermione at the most inconvenient of times. If Fleur had heard her she gave no acknowledgement, leaving Hermione to grind her teeth in frustration.

Making her decision she squared her shoulders resolutely, she wasn't going to play Fleur's game. She tried to stand but the arms around her waist tightened warningly, preventing the action. Hermione unbalanced slightly and fell back; further into Fleur's grip. "Will you leave me to be lonely, ma chaton?" Fleur sighed with mock hurt. "That was exactly my intention," Hermione snapped.

"Why is that, mon mignon?" Fleur smirked and Hermione did her best to turn around and glare at the infuriating woman. She wasn't ready for the proximity; the older woman was centimeters away, close enough to touch if she didn't move carefully. Fleur seemed to feel none of Hermione's anxiety at the closeness, leaning in closer as the brunette blushed furiously. "Do you dislike me?"

"Of course I do-" Hermione caught herself just in time, that confession was certainly going to buy her a month of detention. "No, I just feel uncomfortable being this close to a Professor," Hermione replied, changing tact. The statement was no less true than the confession than she disliked Fleur. It was just a less dangerous path to travel. Or so she thought.

"This close?" Fleur smirked wickedly, before leaning in further so they were a mere centimeter apart, breath mingling to create a humidity Hermione could drown in. "Or this close?"

"That's worse," Hermione gasped, heart racing as she leant back to distance herself from the manic woman. Some part of Hermione wanted her to lean back in; the thrall was undoubtedly affecting that part of her. A kind of intangible aura radiating off Fleur as she sat there with her Cheshire cat grin, beaming like the cat that ate the canary. That was fine, so long as Hermione wasn't the canary in this situation. "How's Bill?" Hermione asked, hoping to catch the veela off guard and perhaps make her angry. Angry Fleur was actually less frightening than the Fleur, who, even now, was invading her personal space. "Did we not agree that my affairs were off no business to a student?" Fleur scowled.

"Isn't it improper conduct for you to be invading my personal space? Improper for a teacher in any case," Hermione shot back. Fleur smirked slightly at that, azure eyes twinkling, much like Dumbledore's, though hers held only impish amusement. "Oh? Well, I still fail to see why I should tell you about my personal life," Fleur retorted, "You are not apart of it and as such have no right to it." Hermione didn't like where this was heading at all, not one bit. However, she felt obliged to make the conversation and she spoke her next line as if reading off some unseen script. "So you're saying unless I'm a part of your personal life you will not tell me?" Hermione mused.

"Exactly," Fleur replied with a toothy grin.

"We were friend's, were we not? Doesn't that count as involvement?" Hermione frowned. "We were not friend's ma chaton, you disliked me as I disliked your personality," Fleur chuckled.

"Personality?" Hermione frowned, noting the difference in phrasing. She had disliked all of Fleur; Fleur had only disliked her personality. She blinked twice in surprise when it dawned on her what the Veela was insinuating. "Oh."

"The veela desires what it desires," Fleur shrugged, "Though your personality was insufferable."

"I like my personality," Hermione scowled, latching on to the only sane part of the conversation. "One would hope you did. If you do not like yourself, who will?" She dismissed Hermione's defense with a wave of her perfectly manicured hand.

"Are you going to tell me about Bill?" Hermione sighed, trying to pull the conversation in its intended direction. "Well, that depends, mon mignon," Fleur smirked predatorily. "Oh what?" Hermione asked, almost too afraid to ask.

"Will you indulge me?" She smirked, her eyelids dropping slightly so Hermione felt like she was being x-rayed. There were many similarities between Dumbledore and Fleur; perhaps the man had snuck into a Veela colony one night. Somehow she couldn't imagine it. She could imagine Lockhart trying it however, and being chased out by angry woman with sharp weapons. She snapped back to the present when she noticed Fleur watching her closely. "Indulge you how?" Hermione asked cautiously. She was very afraid of the way Fleur's lips curled as she asked the question and her heart rate as she realized her back was to the wall, literally. Fleur leant forward and Hermione had long since exhausted her space to run away. "I dislike not getting to try what I like," She smirked, Hermione didn't have to unravel the code in those words, it was very obvious. "I think I'll pass," Hermione insisted nervously. "Surely you are curious about Bill, no?" Fleur smirked, entirely unfazed by Hermione's blushing and stuttering. "Yes, but-"

"Than one kiss is hardly a high price to demand, no?" Fleur explained calmly.

"Technically no, but you're a Professor and a girl and Bill's girlfriend," Hermione listed, her mind undergoing a panic attack. This was not a situation she knew how to deal with.

"Ex," Fleur scoffed and Hermione stopped fretting for a moment to allow the word to sink in. "But you were engaged!" Hermione scowled.

"I will tell no more, until you uphold your end of the deal," Fleur smirked. Hermione seethed, her natural curiosity thrumming through her mind so strongly she could barely sit still. "How do I know you'll uphold your end?" Hermione demanded as disdainfully as she could manage, but it still sounded like defeat. "You'll have to trust me, ma chaton," She smirked triumphantly. Hermione turned over the options in her brain, it didn't take long, there weren't many. "Alright, fine," She conceded, "But so help me, I will slap you if you go too far," Hermione scowled. "Physically assaulting a teacher," Fleur smirked coyly.

"Sexually assaulting a student," Hermione shot back.

"It's not assault if they enjoy it," Fleur laughed, forcing a deep blush into Hermione's cheeks. Silence fell for a moment as Hermione watched Fleur closely, waiting for the Veela to strike. She only realized something was up when Fleur laughed, "You realize you have to kiss me, ma chaton?" She teased, "It is your payment and therefor your first move."

"Oh," Hermione blushed, "A kiss is the deal right?" She asked, an idea occurring in her mind. "Oui," Fleur nodded, clearly missing the intelligent sparkle in the younger witch's eyes. Hermione leant in, breathing shallow and heart racing and deposited a quick, shy kiss of the Veela's smooth cheek. She drew back quickly, appearing as though she had spent far too long in the sun. Not the English sun either, a more intense burn, perhaps from Australia or Hawaii.

Fleur blinked, surprise written on her face before she threw her head back and laughed, a quiet sound of sheer amusement. It was the first time in a long time Hermione had heard her laugh; she had to admit, grudgingly, that it was a beautiful sound. "How very clever, mon petite mignon, you would have done well among the fey," Fleur smirked, smile still joyous but quickly regaining its malicious qualities, "But I'm afraid that is not sufficient payment."

"We never discussed what sort of kiss," Hermione argues stubbornly.

"No? In that case," Fleur's smirk turned purely sadistic, "I shall take a second payment for my own gain, no?"

"That wasn't part of the-" Hermione protested, but she was cut off. Cut off by Fleur's lips crashing into her own. It was not a gently kiss, as she had shared with her muggle boyfriend Oliver, or a clumsy kiss with Ron, or the sweet, careful kiss she had shared with Victor. This kiss was fierce and full of need and she was most definitely not in control of where it was going. Fleur's kiss managed to be both softer and more passionate than any the younger witch had experienced before. She felt Fleur trace her lower lips with a tempting tongue and firmly clamped her lips together. Fleur persisted, not noticing the hint, or, more likely, ignoring her protest. The kiss travelled away from Hermione's uncooperative lips and trailed down her chin to the hyper sensitive area of her neck. Hermione shivered and tried to push the Veela off. "Stop it, Fleur, damn it!" She managed to push her back and kept the older woman at arms length as she gasped for air. Fleur was suffering no such breath shortage and merely smirked amusedly. "Zhat, is barely worthy payment," Fleur sniffed.

"Zhat?" Hermione repeated, accenting the French lilt to the word.

"It seems my English may slip when I am distracted," Fleur shrugged, "You are rather uncooperative."

"You assaulted me," Hermione hissed.

"It's not assault," Fleur smirked and Hermione blushed ever so slightly before she managed to repress it. She had most certainly not enjoyed it…mostly. "You have to tell me about Bill," Hermione scowled.

"You are still fixed on that?" Fleur complained.

"Yes," Hermione nodded stoically.

"Fine," Fleur settled back against the wall and opened her arms, giving Hermione a pointed look. "You've got to be kidding me," Hermione hissed.

"Do you want to know about Bill?" Fleur smiled impishly.

"You just assaulted me," Hermione scowled. Fleur said nothing, only continued to smile like the Mona Lisa, only on a whole new level of malicious intent. Hermione sighed in defeat and leant back in the Veela's embrace as Fleur folded her arms around her possessively. Blonde hair was tickling Hermione's face and she adapted by looking at her shoes. Maybe she was having an odd, insomnia induced dream; though she hardly thought she would dream of being sexually assaulted by Fleur. That was probably something Ron dreamed of.

"Bill and I separated around," Fleur paused to calculate, "Two months ago, just after summer began."

"Why?" Hermione asked, happy that she couldn't see the older woman's face.

"We had grown tired of each other. It is not a Veela's nature to stay with someone for such an extended period and he found it very draining as I found it dull," Fleur explained, her voice a monotone, but Hermione suspected the ordeal had left an amount of emotional scaring. Maybe it had been that incident that led to the cold Fleur taking over, or maybe she was just a bitch, as Hermione had always suspected. "So you broke up?" Hermione guessed.

"No, we kept dating, we were engaged by that point," She murmured, Hermione could feel Fleur's voice vibrate through her chest and they created a pleasant buzzing in Hermione's mind. "We broke up, when I caught him in bed with an older woman," Fleur replied matter-of-factly, "She, apparently, offered him something I couldn't."

"That's terrible," Hermione replied; she hadn't imagined Bill had it in him to cheat.

"Do not judge him, he caught me with a banker first," Fleur chuckled.

"And he stayed with you," Hermione mused.

"Yes, but once a Veela has moved on to another person their past relationship is as good as dead. I do not blame Bill for screwing the cougar," Fleur sniffed. Hermione thought her tone begged otherwise, but she wasn't about to say so. "Just like that, an entire relationship gone?" Hermione frowned, it seemed devastatingly sad to her, but Fleur recounted it so coolly. "You act as if love is forever, 'ermione," Fleur chuckled, "Love is not forever, love like passion, is fleeting."

"It doesn't have to be," Hermione argued.

"It may last, but it fades and dulls with time. Where is the fun in being with the same person every day for twenty years?" Fleur riddled.

"Familiarity, trust, companionship, friendship, loyalty," Hermione listed; sticking to the ideals she had believed her whole life. "Believe what you will," Fleur scoffed, "But I will live my way."

"Fucking whatever has a pulse?" Hermione scowled, tone disdainful.

"You have a pulse," Fleur murmured in Hermione's ear and she jumped.

"I have a sense of decency and self respect," Hermione growled.

"Oh?" Fleur chuckled, "No wonder Weasley is always out chasing skirt." Hermione rose angrily to her feet, "That is none of your business!"

"Maybe not, but it is amusing," The veela snickered, cobalt eyes pinning Hermione in place. She stepped forward, trapping Hermione against the bookshelf; eyes alight with an unidentifiable energy. Hermione put her hands to Fleur's shoulders to keep her at arms length. Unfortunately that left the Veela's hands free and Hermione's occupied. A slim hand rested on her hip as she other trailed down her shoulder, raising Goosebumps on the exposed skin. Hermione released Fleur's shoulder in favor of stopping the older woman trailing her hands anywhere they were highly unwelcome.

Fleur took the opportunity to invade Hermione space once more, trapping the girl against the bookshelf with her hips. "They say that in order for people to like someone, the person must like themselves. The same goes for sex, if you met you in a street would you want to screw yourself?"

"That doesn't even work," Hermione frowned, still trying to hold the Veela off.

"I'll take that as a no," Fleur smirked cruelly, "Than that is how others will see you."

"That's a generalization," Hermione complained.

"Really?" Fleur smirked. Hermione opened her mouth to protest and Fleur swooped. Fixing the young witches lips in place with her own, keeping the gap open as an invasive tongue slipped between Hermione lips. Hermione coughed a sound of complaint, but no sound escaped. Fleur's tongue traced the line of her lower teeth before she pulled back. Biting lightly on the girl's lower lip as she did so; just to taunt her. Hermione watched Fleur's eyes as she pulled back; they were a deeper blue and alight with the same energy as before. So that explained the look, she was aroused. That scared Hermione a lot more than it should have. "If you keep doing that I will report you," Hermione gasped, feeling entirely invaded.

"No, you won't, ma Cherie," Fleur responded with absolute confidence, "Because you know I'm right and once you realize that, we can start having real fun." The veela left the younger witch there, lips still open as she tried to decipher what had just happened. Fleur didn't read like anyone she had ever met before, there was something about her Hermione hated, a lot about her. But there was also something dangerous that drew her in. As far as Hermione knew she was straight, and yet somehow, rules like that didn't seem to apply to Fleur. Hermione shook her head, she wasn't going to allow in thoughts like that. The woman was insufferable and had assaulted her twice now. She should have her arrested. Still, a little voice was echoing in the back of her head, "It isn't assault if you like it." Hermione ignored it stubbornly as she left the library, happy that there was no sign of the Veela. She didn't report the incident.

"Hey, 'mione," Ron called and Hermione approached cautiously. The last time she had seen him she had been informing him that his brother had been hitting on her. In none too delicate words too. "Ron," Hermione replied carefully.

"Listen, 'mione," He scratched the back of his head.

"I'm sorry," She beat him to the punch.

"Yeah," He looked relieved, "Me too. I hate it when we fight." He stepped forward and embraced her in a hug that caught her off guard. Normally she would have felt violated by the intrusion of personal space, but after what Fleur had done this barely seemed like an intrusion, or a violation. "You smell nice," Ron commented.

"Really?" She blinked, "Like what?"

"Vanilla and Musk," He smiled cheerily. Ok, now she felt violated.

_Another chapter done. This one was easier to write for some reason, and mostly about Hermione and Fleur. After 11ooo words we finally have the first kiss! Not that it was exactly romantic. Anyway, I'm still looking for a BETA, so if there are any volunteers, feel free to pm me. Please review and I hope you enjoyed the chapter-Lark_


	6. Blankets In The Rain

_The number of reviews I've been receiving is amazing, thank you all so much for the feedback. I've received a lot of messages with people asking about a more romantic side to the story. Never fear, this story is a romance, there's just going to be a few bumps in the road to get there. I can't say I'm going to incorporate the 'soul mate' side a lot of people use, but I am going to use some Veela heritage mythology as well. There may be one line of twilight bashing in this chapter, but it's only alluded to. Please enjoy-Lark_

Hermione was sitting on the steps of the owlery, breathing in the cool night air and allowing the scent of the forest to wash away the lingering scent of Fleur. This was the first time she could remember breaking the rules for no other reason than to get away from it all. Maybe she should have been concerned about being caught, but right now all she wanted to think about were the stars. She traced the patterns in the sky, the figures leaping out clear as day. All the constellations she loved, Capricorn, Sagittarius, the big dipper. She leant back against the stairs, not minding the damp bricks and greenery. The moss was a natural pillow and only helped to convince her to stay where she was.

Owls were constantly flying out of the glassless windows, casting eerie silhouettes against the moon. Hermione sighed and began counting the owls as they swooped past. It was calming, occupying her mind with something trivial, and not focusing on anything but counting and breathing. Her mother had taught her the meditation exercise when she was young; when she found her studies particularly trying. Her eyes were drifting shut and some part of her told her it wasn't a wise idea to sleep here. Be it the negative repercussion of being found or the possibility of illness from staying out in the cold all night. However, in her half asleep state she wasn't inclined to pay attention to this points and far more inclined to notice the soft cushion of the moss, the fresh earthy smell of the brick and the calming breeze tainted with the smell of pine needles. She had only reached thirty-seven owls when she fell asleep to the rhythm of wing beats.

_With Fleur_

Fleur was fretting slightly, she had neglected to contact her family since arriving at Hogwarts and they were likely to worry about her. She didn't blame them; her actions hardly earned the assumption that she was happy and safe. Each of her family members had taken her separation to Bill differently. Her Father had promptly decided that Bill had not been good enough for her and that she had been wise to drop him. Her little sister had been highly disappointed, she had been the most fond of the Weasleys. Her Mother was concerned; she believed that the split could cause Fleur to become volatile and fleeting, as was the habit of many Veelas who lost significant companions. No matter how many times Fleur explained they had drifted apart her Mother still repeated her opinion.

Fleur had, admittedly, become rather whimsical, but she hardly cared. She did her best not to dwell on any complex emotional matters. She merely sought a victim, played with them until she got bored and moved on. That was the traditional practice of Veelas; they were passionate, beautiful and intelligent but they were also cruel, possessive and fey. Despite not being a full Veela, Fleur had embraced the culture more than any other member of her family, other than her Grandmother. The night air was welcome as she strolled up the stairs to the owlery, the night possessing a vibrant quality English air usually didn't hold. She was nearly at the top of the tower when she came across the girl.

Mahogany locks fell across pale cheeks that the breeze teased back and forth. The girl was pretty, undeniably, but there was something else she most definitely was; prey. This was Hermione Granger, sprawled across the stonework, her face troubled even as she slept. Fleur's instincts kicked in, telling her to take the girl. She was helpless, asleep, completely unsuspecting and oh so tempting. For once Fleur didn't feel like acting on instinct, or at least had the clarity to decide against it. A kiss stolen in the halls of a dusty library could be forgiven or even forgotten, like the dusty tomes. This would have been a different level and most certainly not forgiven, even if it didn't technically classify as assault.

Fleur knelt beside the girl, wondering if her presence would be sensed; Hermione seemed to lost in her dreams to be troubled by the real world. It was then that Fleur noted the Goosebumps on the girl's arms and the faint shiver every time she breathed in. With a slight frown Fleur raised her wand and conjured a blanket; she hardly thought the girl would like to see Fleur's face as soon as she woke up. Not that Fleur wasn't planning on changing that. She tucked the blanket around the girl, unsure why she was doing it. She drew back to watch the girl, she looked almost delicate in sleep; so opposite to how she was in her waking state. She almost felt bad about her current plans to reduce the girl to an empty husk. Almost.

She tucked on of the mahogany locks behind Hermione's idea before a wicked smile lit her lips. She may not have had the heart to wake the girl, but she could make sure Hermione knew who had found her asleep on the steps. She wouldn't even need to leave a note. From her pocket she withdrew a small vial of perfume and sprayed the blanket generously. There was no way that amount of scent was going to come off easily. Fleur smirked in self-satisfaction, leaning back on her heels to watch the girl sleep. Hermione's lips were slightly parted as she breathed, soft and relaxed. Fleur made her decision and leant in, placing a light, chaste kiss on the sleeping girl's lips. It was a different action than she was use to; gentle, not passionate, caring, not sexually driven. It unnerved her more than a little.

She distracted herself by rising to her feet and entering the owls' domain. Family issues she could handle; personal issues were not as popular. Particularly those concerning young girls who were far to helpless for their own good.

_With Hermione_

She stirred slowly, she was stiff, pain assaulted her muscles and something under her cheek felt gravely. It took her half a second to remember she had fallen asleep on the steps and a further half-second for her to blush furiously. Imagine if someone had seen her? She stretched, feeling her joints crack and her neck protest painfully. It was only then that she noticed the blanket and she flushed an even deeper crimson. Someone had found her. She picked up the material, soft and downy; it held the pleasant aroma of vanilla and musk. The thoughts drifted innocently through Hermione's mind before something clicked. Vanilla and musk; most definitely not pleasant. No, no, no, of all the people to find her sleeping on the steps of the owlery why did it have to be that vile woman?

Hermione straightened and dusted herself off, tucking the blanket under her arm. She would return it during her lesson today, no need to feel embarrassed. It wasn't like a walk of shame, not really. She yawned, breathing in the fresh morning air; it was only just past dawn and the air still zinged with the energy dew delivered. She wondered briefly how long Fleur had watched her sleep. The thought was rather creepy and unnerving, being watched at your most vulnerable and not being aware of the threat. Good intention or not, she preferred sleeping in peace and she couldn't help feeling slightly invaded at the thought of someone watching her sleep. She jogged down the steps, hoping anyone who saw her would assume she had been sending a letter. That way the only people who knew she fell asleep on the stairs were she and Fleur. That was better in some ways, but worse in others. Fleur could hang the embarrassment over her head like an emotional guillotine. How perfectly French.

Hermione felt a pit form in her stomach as she approached the classroom; she wished he had eaten less lunch than the little she had managed in the first place. This feeling of dread she associated with three things; test results, fighting with Ron and Fleur Delacour. She had deliberately idled in the hall so as to not allow for any time in which Fleur could torment her. It seemed she had waited too long; everyone else had been so eager to learn from her that they arrived early. Making Hermione late. Well, not technically, but that was unlikely to stop Fleur ridiculing her for it. Sure enough when she pushed the door open all the other students were seated and Fleur had paused mid sentence. The smile that curled those cherry lips sent a shiver down Hermione spine. "Miss Granger," Fleur smirked, sultry eyes twinkling, "How kind of you to join us. I see you intend to sleep through my lesson?" She asked, eyes flicking to the blanket under Hermione arms. Hermione's mind blanked, she hadn't even considered what bringing a blanket to class looked like. Nor could she defend herself by saying she was returning it to Fleur without admitting she had fallen asleep on the owlery steps; which, to someone with as much dignity as her, was highly embarrassing. "I have a free period next, I was going to use it as a picnic blanket to sit by the lake," She lied smoothly. No one but Fleur noticed the moment's silence between the question and the answer. "It's raining," Fleur replied flatly.

"I like the rain, I was going to use an umbrella charm," Hermione shot back, sick to death of this teacher riding her. Not that she would ever use that particular wording around Fleur. "Take your seat, ten points from Gryffindor for being late," Fleur snapped. Hermione felt like arguing that she was not technically late, but decided it was probably safer to just take her seat.

The only problem was that there were no free seats and Hermione was left stranded in the middle of the classroom. Fleur smirked and lazily flicked her wand, summoning a chair beside her. "The charms departments managed to make one of our desks run away. I believe Filch is currently trying to catch it." There was a pause in which the class laughed, imagining the poor caretaker chasing after a desk as Peeves followed cackling. "You may share my desk," Fleur informed her with another amused smirk. Hermione didn't like that option; it meant she was stuck facing the class until they started practicing. It also meant that anything from navel down was entirely concealed by the solid teacher's desk. Which was again, not good considering Fleur's nature. Sure enough, as soon as she took a seat beside Fleur the older woman grinned at her conspiratorially. "All right," She called to the class, "Before we duel today, I will be teaching you the mechanics of a spell known as _nox terrorem _which caused the victim to suffer terrible night terrors while awake. If you manage to hit someone with this spell they are unable to battle, though they may attack what isn't there," Fleur explained. Hermione scowled, as much as she dislike the woman, she was a good teacher. Yet another thing she would never say to the woman.

"Read pages 217 through to 219 about the mechanics and origin of the spell. When you finish I want you to be prepared to answer any question I throw at you about its advantages and disadvantages, as well as its usage in famous duels," Fleur instructed as the students flipped open the books. The sight was so familiar, except it was usually accompanied by a groan of annoyance; not for Professor goldilocks apparently. This was the part Hermione dreaded, the silence of self-study; now was the time Fleur would mess with her. She focused on the page and nearly jumped when Fleur placed a hand on her knee. Hermione scowled at her, but the effect was lost because Fleur was focused on the writing before her. Hermione exhaled sharply and turned back to her book, highly agitated. Her discomfort only rose when Fleur's thumb began to make small circular movements against her skin. "Stop it," Hermione breathed as quietly as she could. The closest desk of students was a mere meter away and she had no intention of them finding out what was going on. To Hermione's surprise Fleur stopped, but it was a short-lived reprieve as the older woman slid her hand higher. Hermione restrained a yelp with difficulty and shifted away. Fleur sighed in disappointment and turned back to her work, Hermione sighed in relief and returned to her reading. She had only made it through a page when Fleur called time on the reading portion of the lesson.

"Alright, Dean is it?" Fleur asked and Dean nodded nervously, "What is a disadvantage of using this spell?"

"If they hallucinate about being attacked they can start attacking everything and you could be injured," He replied hesitantly.

"Good, Longbottom, an advantage?" She asked and Neville jumped noticeably.

"Ah, they can't strategize," He squeaked.

"Correct, Miss Granger, can you tell me a duel it was used in?" Fleur asked, smirking craftily. Hermione hadn't read that part, at least not in class; unbeknownst to Fleur she had already read the whole book. "Grindlewald used it against Ivanovitch, which allowed him to win the duel and take over the encampment of wizards," Hermione replied, lips curling slightly in disdain at the surprised look on Fleur's face.

"Correct, enough questions," Fleur decided, seemingly in a worse mood than before, "Pair off." Hermione scrambled to her feet and away from Fleur, managing to score Ron as her dueling partner. Ron had been less keen to pair with Harry after his abysmal defeat the previous lesson. Sometimes his cowardice worked to her favor. "We will go through one at a time, casting the spell at your opponent. This is so you can get the spell right and be aware of the effect before you start dueling with it," Fleur instructed as the first pair lined up to cast.

It was quite horrifying really; people screamed, ran, fought and even curled into small balls and sobbed. By the time it was she and Ron's turn she was actually quite scared; though unlike Ron, she did a rather good job of hiding it. She stuck him first and he fell very quiet, too quiet. The colour drained from his face and when he screamed it was an awful sound. Fleur ended the curse quickly and Ron got to his feet shaking. "What did you see?" Hermione asked him. Ron merely shook his head and looked at his feet, "You, Harry, Mum..." He trailed off and shuddered. Hermione gulped and turned her attention back to the class. "Mr. Weasley is unable to curse Miss Granger, Mr. Potter, if you would," Fleur instructed. Harry nodded seriously and pointed his wand at Hermione's chest; she would have liked a friendly smile or a question about her preparedness for this. None were forthcoming as she stared down his wand. When the curse hit her she was momentarily confused, she was in a dark room, but soon shapes began to distinguish themselves.

Her parents, she hadn't seen them since she wiped their memories and sent them packing to Australia. It hurt just to look at them. They were happy, chatting and laughing. Hermione approached them but they didn't seem to notice her until she stepped into the light. They turned familiar eyes on her, but the frowns she had not seen, not this particular expression. "Who are you dear?" Her Mother asked.

"How did you get into the house?" Her father demanded.

"I'm your-" Hermione started, but she couldn't protect them if they knew.

"I'm going to have to ask you to leave," Her Father informed her firmly. The vision faded back to the classroom, but it didn't matter. She sat there, crying, sobbing and shaking and it didn't matter that people were watching. It may have been a nightmare but it was far to real because if she did find her parent's that is exactly what they would say. It would be like she had never existed and in that moment, she didn't want.

Arms wrapped around her and a consoling hand brushed her hair, at first she thought it might have been Ron or Harry, or perhaps Neville, who was inclined to provide such support. The touch was too gentle to be one of them and it didn't take the cloying perfume for Hermione to guess who held her. For once she didn't care. "Come on," Fleur murmured, taking her hand and pulling her to her feet. "I will be back in a moment. If anyone fires a spell I will know," She added menacingly as she led Hermione from the classroom. By the time they reached the hall way Hermione was beginning to regain her composure. It broke again as soon as Fleur fixed her in place with knowing azure eyes. "What is it, ma chaton?" Fleur asked softly, stroking her hair rhythmically. "My parents, I wiped their memories," Hermione whispered in a small, horrified voice.

'But of course you didn't mon mignon," Fleur consoled, holding the shaking girl close. "But I did, I did," Hermione muttered, "I did it to protect them, but I did it."

"Oh," Fleur blinked before tightening her grip around the girl, "Then you did it for the right reasons and you should not feel so bad. What is done can be undone, no?"

"It can," Hermione nodded slowly, leaning against the Veela's shoulder. She was too tired and sad to care about the proximity. Hermione leant her head against Fleur's shoulder and Fleur leant her head against Hermione's. Fleur's fingers were tracing calming circles on her harm and she closed her eyes, trying to come back to earth. "We must make sure no-one has died, no?" Fleur murmured after a while, though she made no move to stand. "Yes," Hermione agreed, reluctant to give up the peace that had settled over her. The stood in unison and re-entered the classroom that was suffering from minor upheaval. Hermione watched the others duel; she didn't feel up to taking another of those curses. Fleur stayed by her side, not touching or teasing for once, just standing there. Hermione found she didn't mind.

Hermione waited until the end of the lesson when most of the students had left to return Fleur's blanket. Fleur was speaking to a Slytherin Hermione found particularly obnoxious so she left the blanket on the desk. Fleur had other ideas and place her hand over Hermione's to keep her there while she finished her conversation. Once the Slytherin had left Fleur turned her full attention to Hermione, who was shuffling her feet nervously. "Ah, I think that's yours," Hermione mumbled unneeded.

"It is," Fleur assented with a small smile.

"Well, I'm returning it," Hermione pointed out.

"Keep it," Fleur shrugged, "You may fall asleep outside again. Were you watching the owls or practicing being homeless?" Fleur smirked. It was her usual; teasing, but it seemed gentler somehow. "Something along those lines," Hermione replied unhelpfully and pulled her hand back. "Keep it," Fleur repeated, "I quite like that scent on you."

"You did that on purpose," Hermione scowled, she hadn't had time for a shower that morning and the smell of Fleur had been stuck to her all day. "Of course, mon mignon," Fleur smiled unashamedly, "But it does not bother you." Hermione scowled at the Veela, grabbed the blanket and stormed out. Once in the hall she slowed to a walk and lifted the blanket to her face, breathing in the scent. No, it didn't really annoy her. What bothered her was that it _didn't _bother her and somehow, Fleur knew that.

_There's a little romance for you and some more of Fleur's soft side. Mixed in with teasing of course, but if it wasn't she wouldn't be (my) Fleur. I invented the spell and the effect; I thought it would fit. Anyway, hope you guys enjoyed it and please review-Lark_


	7. Vanilla & Musk

_Thank you all so much for the reviews. Some of them were fantastically detailed and they definitely made my day, well, aside from beating my best friends in poker. Sorry to disappoint about the once a day update, I had a long day at work. I hope you all enjoy the chapter and review-Lark_

Unlike the vast majority of students at Hogwarts, Hermione actually preferred weekdays to weekends. During the week there were classes to attend and homework to complete, on the weekend the boys played Quidditch and Hermione's organization left her with little homework. Which as a result, left her with far too much time to think. Considering the tumultuous nature of her personal life, the state of the wider world had managed to slip her mind for a few days. Now, sitting down to an early breakfast in a practically empty great hall, her mind turned back to the chaos of the outside world. Voldemort was at large, people were dying and they stayed safe and warm at Hogwarts. Sometimes she understood Harry's frustration all too well.

The Order was out there, risking their lives while she sat and sipped orange juice. Surely she was as capable, if not more so, to fight the Death Eaters as any member of the order. She felt vaguely sick at the thought of wasting all this time, pretending as if nothing was happening. She curled her fingers around her glass, gripping tightly, turning her knuckled white and threatening to shatter the glass. Cool fingers slipped over hers, easing her vice like grip of the poor piece of glass wear. "I am sure you have reason for you tension, but I do not think it is the glasses fault, no?" A silky voice teased lightly.

"Hello Fleur," Hermione sighed, she couldn't summon the energy required to reply heatedly. Fleur slid into the seat beside her, sitting too close, as was her habit. A glance around the hall told Hermione that there was no one within five or six meters of them. Fleur had already proved she had few qualms about pursing her in public venues. Say, a classroom, for instance.

"How did you sleep, ma chaton?" Fleur asked, smile far too mischievous for Hermione's liking. "Perfectly," Hermione lied, in fact her dreams had been plagued by replays of the nightmare she had suffered because of the Nox curse. Fleur watched her for a moment, cobalt eyes unreadable before she scowled. "Liar," She accused, furrowing her brows.

"I slept fine," Hermione snorted derisively.

"You suffered rather terribly from the Nox curse, nobody who reacts that badly to the curse sleeps soundly the next night," She smirked.

"Sounds like you speak from personal experience," Hermione shot back.

"I do," Fleur nodded, completely unashamed. Hermione blinked, allowing her mind to process what Fleur had just said. "What did you see?" Hermione asked quietly, so quietly she could almost be called shy. "The first time, I saw my little sister, drowning in the lake. Back when I was seventeen and naïve," Fleur sighed. Hermione remained silent, ignoring the small quip about her age. "That must have been terrible," She murmured.

"It was," Fleur nodded seriously, azure eyes clouded.

"The, ah, second time you were hit?" Hermione asked hesitantly.

"Yesterday, in class. I must say, I held it together rather better than you," She chuckled, but Hermione didn't fail to notice she was dodging the question about what she saw. "What did you see?" Hermione murmured.

"Someone I knew dying, someone I didn't know meant that much until they were gone," Fleur replied after a second's pause.

"Bill?" Hermione guessed. Fleur didn't reply, instead helping herself to a sip of Hermione's juice. "I might be sick," Hermione scowled.

"As may I," Fleur snickered before slipping her hand onto Hermione's leg, the gesture hidden by their cloaks. "We could always do a more thorough job of contaminating each other," Fleur murmured suggestively.

"No," Hermione refused, gazing stubbornly at Fleur's hand, resting offensively on her knee. The long nails were cabaret red and stood our starkly against her pale skin. "Let me go, Fleur," Hermione ordered. Fleur retracted her hand, slowly, tracing patterns on her skin with each finger as she removed it.

As if to make up for this loss of contact Fleur moved closer so Hermione was once again soaked in the scent of vanilla and musk. Hermione wondered if it was a perfume or if she naturally gave off the scent; she was a Veela after all. "Now don't make me give you a detention, 'ermione," Fleur snickered, breath washing over Hermione's face like a vanilla breeze, "We have been over this, it's Professor to you."

"If you are further than an inch from me I will call you Professor," Hermione scowled, bargaining for breathing room. "Sorry, ma Cherie, but you do not get to dictate that. You are not in a position of power," Fleur smirked, cherry lips lifting to reveal her perfect white teeth. "And you are?" Hermione guessed, "I bet that's the way you like it."

"Oh, you have no idea," Fleur smirked, a husky quality to her voice that made Hermione blush fiercely. Students were beginning to file into the hall now, a steady stream of them, like ants heading into an anthill after a day of foraging. "I shall see you later, mon mignon," Fleur sighed and placed a lingering kiss on her cheek.

"If someone saw that you could be fired," Hermione taunted.

"But it is a French custom, it would be racist to prevent it, no?" Fleur smirked and waltzed off, drawing the usual number of glances and drooling stares. It most games of strategy Hermione was two moves ahead; the only problem was that in this one, Fleur was three.

Hermione was happy to be down by the lake, protected by the shade of a tree, books spread out around her. She was alone, which seemed to have become routine these days. She often wondered if Ron had only tagged along because of Harry, maybe she was overthinking the red heads absence. She hadn't had a chance to speak to Harry in depth since she had seen him in the library, before Fleur accosted her. Hermione took in a deep breath and scanned the Ancient Runes book before her, the translation simply refusing to make sense. She flicked her eyes back up, content to simply watch the lake. It hadn't changed, not since she was eleven, even the tree's seemed to sway in the same pattern. The sunlight danced diamonds off the glass surface as first years skipping stones sent ripples crisscrossing against the surface. It was hard to believe that a few years ago she had been held hostage at the bottom of the lake by merpeople. Her thoughts drifted back to Fleur telling her about the nightmare she had suffered. It really had been a rather personal confession. She felt vaguely warm and fuzzy to know Fleur had shared it with her. Which was rather odd considering how much the older woman liked to torment her.

Her eyes focused back on the water, the depths reflecting the sky so she felt that if she merely rowed out she could fall into the sky itself. Perhaps then time would stop still and she wouldn't have to worry about the war, or Harry and Ron. All she would have to think about was flying, clouds and sunshine. Ron sitting down beside her interrupted her peaceful thoughts. He stunk of sweat and frustration; clearly he had been playing Quidditch. "How's the homework?" He yawned, leaning against the tree trunk. "Finished," She replied.

"Then what all this?" He frowned, eyes fluttering shut.

"Extra," Hermione shrugged nonchalantly. Ron snapped his eyes open and gave her his trademark 'are you mad?' look. "You never change," He laughed. Hermione frowned sadly; he had no idea how wrong he was. Ron gazed out over the grounds and Hermione noted his eyes glazing slightly. Hermione turned her head to see what he was staring at and sighed wearily.

It was Fleur, of course it was, who else could inspire that vacant look and drooling smile? She was wrapped in a trench coat and boots, her pale blonde hair standing out against the black as much as spilt blood against white tiles. Which was the effect of her lipstick, as it happened. The sun was shinning off her hair, casting what appeared to be a golden aura around her. If Hermione hadn't been so set on loathing the woman, she too would have been struck by how beautiful this angel was. The angel look was for appearances only; Hermione knew that all too well. Fleur seemed to notice her gaze and changed her route, walking towards them instead. Ron flattened his hair and sat up straight, smile already in place. Fleur's golden aura vanished somewhat as she stepped into the shade but her trademark scent made up for it. Hermione was pretty sure someone could get drunk of it; it wouldn't be very hard. Then again, veelas were predators; that was probably the intended purpose. The thought made Hermione shiver; she was prey after all, wasn't she?

"Bonjour, 'ermione," Fleur smiled, folding herself gracefully onto the ground, directly beside Hermione and opposite Ron. She laid a lazy hand over Hermione's in a careless gesture that could be mistaken as an accident. Somehow Ron seemed to sense otherwise, maybe subconsciously, but he wrapped an arm around Hermione's shoulders. "To what do we owe the pleasure?" He grinned, using the arm as a grouping gesture. He didn't, however, drop it from her shoulders when he finished speaking. Fleur's smile was still in place but her eyes were ice cold. Hermione frowned slightly and leant back against Ron's shoulder, a move he seemed to appreciate as he tightened his hold on her. Sure enough, Fleur's eyes darkened and the hand she held on top of Hermione's tensed. "I came to inform Miss Granger that she is required to complete an essay on the Nox curse, as she was unable to compete the exercise in class," Fleur sneered.

"That's hardly fair," Ron argued and Fleur's eyes glinted with malice. Hermione got the distinct impression this wasn't going to end well. "Are you contesting my authority, Mr. Weasley?" Fleur asked quietly.

"Maybe I am," Ron replied bravely, he didn't seem very effected by her Veela charm. Maybe because it all seemed to be aimed at her, she could practically feel the effort it was taking Fleur to keep control. "Detention, Mr. Weasley, my office, ten minutes. Fetch your book, you will need them," Fleur snapped, "Now."

"Yes, Professor," He conceded, reluctantly releasing Hermione from his side and rising to his feet. He shot her a forlorn look over his shoulder before tramping up to his detention. Hermione highly doubted Fleur had any intention of showing up to supervise. Not when she had that look in her eye and an all too private shady spot under a tree. Ron was the lucky one.

Fleur remained silent and Hermione would have left, were it not for Fleur's iron grip on her hand. Her fingers were creating small crevices in the dirt; she was intensely riled. Surely she couldn't be jealous? Without warning she moved closer, breathing in Hermione's scent before drawing back suddenly. "You even smell like him," She spat.

"Professor I-"

"Learn something now, 'ermione," She interrupted, voice fierce, " We Veela are very possessive, it will not turn out well for Monsieur Weasley."

"Are you threatening Ron?" Hermione gaped.

"If I have to," She replied calmly.

"That's insane, you don't own me," Hermione replied heatedly. Fleur didn't speak, didn't give a moment's warning, not even a twitch of the muscle. Hermione was taken completely off guard when she was pushed back against the tree and Fleur's lips found hers with a needy intensity. Hermione gasped, almost forgetting to deny the older woman. Fleur released her lips and brushed her cheek against Hermione's so she was whispering in her ear, "Don't I?"

"No," Hermione scowled, fully aware how close they were, bodies pressed together, Fleur's breath soaking into her skin. "No?" Fleur smirked, "When an animal finds their mate, or prey, or property, they mark it. Have I not marked you?"

"Of course no-" Hermione stopped when she noticed once again the sweet scent of Vanilla and Musk, of Fleur. "You have got to be kidding me," She protested as Fleur laughed, rubbing her cheek against Hermione's. "It is that which Monsieur Weasley reacted to, call it pheromones."

"I am not your property," Hermione scowled, pushing her back. She didn't know if she had ever felt more demeaned and violated in her life.

"No? I'll make you a deal 'ermione," Fleur smirked, her voice low and husky, it was always dangerous when she got that tone. "Kiss me, just once, I get to mark when we stop. If you feel nothing, I will, how would you say, release you?" Fleur offered. Hermione hissed in annoyance as she considered the offer before nodding once, slowly. It was worth a shot.

What she hadn't been prepared for was the different nature of the kiss; it wasn't fierce or needy or dominating. It was soft, like silk running over eyelids; Fleur made the first move, it was chaste and gentle. Not nearly as terrible as Hermione would have liked. When the kiss deepened, never losing its gentle touch Fleur wrapped her arms around Hermione's shoulders. Holding her close like something precious and new that would cost the world should you break it. Hermione felt safe in those arms, somewhere in her distant mind she knew she was crazy, that she was losing the deal, but she didn't care. How could she, with those lips as soft as rose petals and her arms as inviting as a warm bed after a long day? Fleur ran her tongue over Hermione's lower lip ever so lightly as she drew back. She never released the girl from her arms, smiling at Hermione's blush. "Look me in the eye, ma amour, and tell me you didn't feel anything," Fleur whispered. Hermione raised her butterscotch eyes to meet Fleur's gaze, but she didn't even make it that far. She dropped her head onto Fleur's shoulder, not sure how to react. Fleur pulled her close, laughing softly. "As I told you, you are mine," Fleur lifted her chin and placed a tender kiss on her brow, "But why is that a bad thing?"

Hermione was alone in the common room, the lights had long since faded from the dorms, even the fire was dying. It's fight for life vanquished by its lack of fuel. Did she really have feelings for Fleur? What about Fleur, she was a veela. Hermione could bear the thought of letting herself feel for someone if she was nothing but a toy. Could she really expect anything more than that from Fleur? Somehow she knew her heart was going to receive more than a few beatings over this. She just hoped someone was there to help stitch it back together.

_Thanks for reading guys. I'll just let you know that the different French pet names show stages in the relationship. There's the first _real _kiss, I truly hope I did it justice. I wanted it to be sweet and warm and absent of any really manipulation. I feel bad for poor Ron though. Anyway, hope you enjoyed the chapter and please review-Lark_


	8. Freeze With Me

_Thank you all for your reviews. It definitely brightened my day after an eight-hour shift. Thank you to everyone who reviewed and I hope you enjoy the chapter-Lark_

Ron's attempt at indignation was somewhat ruined by the amount of food stuffed into his oversized mouth. Hermione was pretty sure the stack of food on his plate would feed all the house elves for a week, as well as managing to conceal the lower half of his face, for which Hermione was grateful. Though she doubted the favorable concealment would last long considering the rate at which he was inhaling the food. "I'm tellin' you, it took me a bloody hour to find her office, I even 'ad to ask McGonagall," Ron seethed, his speech contorted by the piece of toast hanging out over his lip. His lips were coated in spit and crumbs and in the left corner, peanut butter. She felt absolutely no desire to kiss him; which, considering she had been convinced she loved him the previous year, was rather shocking. She didn't know where the thought had come from, but it soon occupied her mind.

His lips weren't soft, or sweet or hell, even clean. She wondered what had attracted her attention to him romantically in the first place. She couldn't put her finger on it, particularly listening to Ron ramble on about the trails he went through to find Fleur's office. "Then, when I finally find it, she's not even bloody there!" He spat in disgust, spraying Harry's newspaper with toast bits and what Hermione suspected, or rather hoped, was coffee. "Did she show up?" Harry asked; Hermione knew he wasn't really interested, only humoring the red head to stop him moving onto more serious topics. They had all gotten quite sick of conversing about death over breakfast. "Yeah, after I was waiting half an hour; she was grinning like the cat that ate the canary. She comes right on up to me and says I can go," He snorted.

"She's bi-polar," Hermione sighed, taking a sip of her coffee.

"Yeah, you had detention with her, what'd she make you do?" Ron scowled, though he was disguising his true interest in the matter. Maybe he was being protective of her, what an unfortunate time line of events. Of only this behavior had come five months ago, she would have been overjoyed. Now she was only confused.

"Lines," Hermione lied, thinking back to the detention and the library visit afterwards. "See, that's not so bad, no bloody long search or terrifying, psychologically damaging wait," Ron scoffed.

"Yeah," She laughed, falsely bright, busying herself with reading her paper, "No damage." Unless you count being molested in a deep dark corner of the library where there was no one to report a teacher for inappropriateness. "Now Umbridge," Ron leant back, his mouth empty of everything except air and ill considered words, "She could give a detention."

"Not in a good way," Harry muttered. This was probably the most he had spoken during a meal in a long time.

The post owls descended and Hermione was surprised to find a handsome screech owl angling towards her. The graceful predator alighted before her, a small cream envelope tied to its leg. Hermione reached out and untied it, the bird didn't wait for her to thank it, taking wing and vanishing away into the sunlight. She opened the envelope and scowled as she saw the name at the bottom of the short letter. Fleur. Other than her name it contained only a single sentence, if you could call it that. _The nox essay, my desk at five. _ Hermione sighed and folded her paper and slid it into her bag. "Who was that from?" Ron frowned.

"Fleur, that essay is due this afternoon," Hermione shrugged.

"That's bull shit," Ron complained.

"Yeah, it is," Hermione agreed, "But I don't want detention." She knew all too well what detention with Fleur could entail.

She didn't use the room of requirement to reach the office this time; now she knew its location it was unnecessary. She hesitated at the door; maybe she could slide the essay through the gap and run before Fleur had time to catch her. However, the owl had said for it to be on her desk at five. Anything less and she was begging for a detention, at least the guys would notice she was missing within the hour. At least that's what she told herself in order to boost her confidence enough to open the door. It was only after she opened the door that she realized she hadn't knocked and the apprehension must have shown on her face because pearls of laughter reached her ears. "Ah ma petite chaton, you are so cute when you realize you're screwed," Fleur laughed. Hermione still liked the sound, though she only noted this distantly. She was far more concerned with being alone with Fleur, a long way from anyone else, in a room with a lockable door; and she didn't have the key, again. Hermione remained silent as she strode to Fleur's desk, dropped the essay and spun, fully intending to leave, immediately. Not that she expected she make it to the door, and she was surprised when she reached it uninterrupted. It caused her to hesitate, an action met by chuckles. "Were you expecting something else?" Fleur drawled silkily.

"No," Hermione lied, why had she paused, she hardly wanted to be at the woman's mercy. "I was considering how long I would have to wait for Ron to be finished his homework."

She didn't know why she said it, but somehow she saw it's effect coming before it happened. Fleur crossed the room in a second and slammed the half open door in Hermione's face. "You should know better than to tease me so, 'ermione," Fleur hissed, standing between Hermione and the door handle. "Ronald is my friend, it is natural for me to have plans with him," Hermione retorted heatedly.

"The way that boy looks at you," Fleur seethed, closing in on Hermione's personal space, backing her into a wall. "He is lucky to have gotten off so lightly."

"Stop threatening Ron," Hermione growled, Gryffindor loyalty leaping at the opportunity to defend her friends. "Stop resisting me," Fleur countered, cobalt eyes burning with intensity. "No," Hermione hissed. This was the Fleur she couldn't stand, the jealous, sinister, cold version, a true predator. "Then I will threaten him until I am sure," She vowed, pinning Hermione to the wall before the girl could reach for her wand. "Sure of what? That I'm not shagging him on days ending in y?" Hermione spat.

"Exactly," Fleur countered.

"I'm not, and even if I were, it is none of your god damn business," Hermione snapped. "We decided against that, mon amour," Fleur smirked, lowering her head so their eyes were level. "When you kissed me and couldn't say you felt nothing."

"We never agreed that meant you owned me, only that you'd back off if I didn't," Hermione argued.

"It was an unspoken agreement," Fleur chuckled, her hot breath puffing against Hermione's lips. Hermione had to fight her instinct to lick her lips, it was hard, she could feel their dryness and the added hot breath contaminating her lips wasn't helping. As usual, Fleur seemed to be able to guess her line of thought all too well, and found it highly amusing.

"Are your lips dry mon mignon?" She smirked, "Are you afraid of what I'll do if you, say, open them?" Hermione blushed scarlet and tried to lower her head but Fleur kept her chin up with a slim finger. "I'll put you out of your misery," Fleur snickered, "I'll open them anyway." Hermione saw the contact coming; it wasn't rushed like the last time Fleur had kissed her without permission. She had time to dodge out of the way, but she didn't. Fleur stopped, a millimeter short, azure eyes fixed determinedly on butterscotch. The blue was darkened with shadows, with lust; honestly, it scared Hermione. She wasn't used to seeing that emotion, let alone being the cause for it. "Don't, Fleur, don't," Hermione murmured, risking opening her mouth within such close proximity of the Veela.

To her surprise the older woman drew back with a weary sigh. Fleur was frustrated; Hermione realized that now. The older witch may have been moving slowly in her pursuit of Hermione, but that speed was her definition of slow, not Hermione's. The idea of full pace Fleur down right terrified her but she was more than a little confused about Fleur slowly down her usual pace. Particularly if she was the prey, didn't the predator set the pace of the kill? After all, this wasn't a chase, Hermione was caught, maybe not mousetrap caught, but maze caught. She had proved that when she couldn't tell Fleur where to shove it after the kiss. In a way she almost pitied Fleur for choosing a victim such as her.

"No," Fleur snapped, releasing her completely and stepping back a few feet, "Don't you dare pity me."

"I wasn't," Hermione denied hurriedly.

"Gryffindors make horrible liars," Fleur growled, "Do not forget who is the prey and who is the predator in this situation."

"And what happens if I give in?" Hermione challenged, "You move on to your next victim?"

"It's a Veela's way of life," Fleur smirked.

"You're a quarter Veela," Hermione countered.

"A fact I have been reminded of all my life," Fleur sneered, "I'm not even a half breed."

"People pity you for being quarter Veela, not people, Veela," Hermione realized.

"Don't pretend to know my life," Fleur growled, her mood shifting back towards murderous. "Why? You seem quite happy trying to ruin mine," Hermione spat.

"You may think you know me, petite fille. You think I have it set, I have beauty and intelligence, automatic respect, but only with the people who don't count," Fleur scowled.

"That's why you chose me as your victim, because I didn't," Hermione blinked.

"One of the reasons," Fleur smirked nastily, "You have no idea what it is like to be degraded because you're not one hundred percent wizard."

"You have got to be joking," Hermione scoffed, she didn't know when she had started yelling, but her voice echoed around the office, "I'm a mudblood." Fleur was silent for a moment before she murmured, almost too softly to hear, "Don't call yourself that."

"Why not? Mudblood and proud," Hermione repeated.

"Don't," Fleur repeated, her tone softening as she stepped closer, "Call yourself that, ever," Fleur insisted, azure eyes soft, vulnerable almost.

"I won't, if you stop hating your Veela ancestry or your human side," Hermione bargained, her heart going out to the woman. She cared, lord knows why but she cared, a place in her heart was reserved for this woman and she only hoped she wouldn't trample it. "Mon amour," Fleur objected.

"Promise me, and I'll promise you," Hermione replied somberly.

"I promise," Fleur murmured.

"Than so do I," Hermione nodded before sinking slowly to the floor.

She was tired, oh so tried, anything to do with Fleur stole her energy away. Fleur sat next to her, a deliberate inch away. "Fleur, why did you pick me to, ah, pursue?" Hermione asked carefully.

"Because you're different," Fleur sighed, "You didn't fall on your knees as I walked past, you're intelligent and I think you…. You understand." Hermione could tell she was struggling, Fleur may have been an expert in all things sexual and seductive, but Hermione highly doubted she was used to having heart to hearts. Not since Bill anyway…Bill. "What happened with you and Bill?" Hermione asked shyly. Fleur glanced sideways at her before sighing, "I got attached, I was scared and I shied away. The relationship was ruined before we could even react to it," Fleur whispered and Hermione was vaguely horrified to see a tear rolling down her cheek. It was perfect, glistening, like a diamond dropped by a princess, or a fallen star against perfect pearl. Perfect, sad and lonely, just like Fleur.

Hermione shuffled closer and laid her head against Fleur's shoulder and took her slim palm in her own. Fleur's silky hair was downy soft against her cheek and her scent made Hermione feel safe, almost forgetting she was the comforter, not the comforted. "Love is frightening, when I fell for Ron," Hermione felt Fleur tighten her grip around Hermione's hand, but Hermione pressed on, "I was terrified, but excited. It was new, something you couldn't learn in a book. The excitement faded when I realized love isn't fairy tale," Hermione sighed sadly, "and like many things too good to be true, it faded."

"Love can be a fairy tale," Fleur replied, wrapping an arm around the girl beside her and pulling her close. The comforter had become the comforted. Fleur's body heat felt pleasant beside her, her scent familiar and safe. To Fleur Hermione was young, someone who should have broken the second Fleur showed them any attention. But she hadn't and Fleur felt protective of the girl, not possessive, protective. Like she had a duty to protect her from harm, including the harm she could inflict. So they stayed, Hermione leaning against the woman determined on destroying her and Fleur holding the girl determined to save her. Isn't life ironic?

Hermione didn't know how long they stayed like that; she didn't care. She felt like whomever moved first would shatter the perfect illusion and they would return to chaos. She had felt like this once before, outside the classroom where Fleur had comforted her. In the end, she moved, turning her head to watch Fleur. She was surprised to see Fleur already gazing at her, azure eyes soft, caring. Moving in to kiss her hadn't really been a conscious choice, it just happened. Maybe it was the fact she had a real choice this time and no pressure to move. She kissed Fleur softly, like the older woman was glass, not the other way round. Fleur raised her hand to cup Hermione's cheek as she reciprocated. There was no real heat, only peace and growing familiarity. Hermione broke the kiss and laid her head in the hollow of Fleur's throat. "If I didn't know any better, mon amour," Fleur smiled, her voice vibrating through her chest and against Hermione's ear, "I would say you don't hate me as much as you claim."

"Hmm," Hermione murmured, she was warm and comfortable, she wished she could freeze the moment and stop the doubts already creeping into her mind. Fleur laughed, Hermione really did like the sound; it was like wind chimes. "Can we just stay like this, just for while?" Hermione asked softly.

_With Fleur_

It felt so right it scared her, right to her very core, or at least, her human core. Her Veela side was purring contentedly, basking in the warmth of the girl leaning against her. She cared and that was alien and unnerving, she should release the girl, or take control of the situation, take advantage of her. She didn't; instead, she drew the girl closer, enjoying her fresh scent. She was like sunshine and rain, innocent yet not, cheery at the same time as sad, young as well as old. She felt the girl breathe in deeply and relax further. "I would say you don't hate me as much as you claim," Fleur smiled, feeling more peaceful than she had in a long time.

"Hmm," Hermione replied sleepily and Fleur laughed, happy, not disdainfully amused, happy. "Can we just stay like this, just for a while?" Hermione asked unexpectedly. "I would like nothing more, mon amour, than to be frozen here and now," Fleur replied truthfully. Anything to stop the doubts.

_This chapter was more emotional; I guess you'd say. I wanted to humanize Fleur a little, so it wasn't just Hermione that needed comforting. I'm still new to the emotional writing scheme so please tell me how I went. Hope you enjoyed and please review-Lark_


	9. Catch Me Like Moonbeams

_I have bad news and good news. The good news is that this is another daily update. The bad news is that because I will be going back to school in a few days so the updates may become weekly rather than daily. There's going to be a bit of a veela back-story here. Some of it is true; some is of my own invention, hope you enjoy. Thank you all for reading and please enjoy the chapter-Lark_

Doubts are notoriously difficult to restrain, they creep into the happy moments like shadows at dusk. They dampen the perfect moments, break silences that should never be broken and shatter the toughest of hearts. The doubts had barely any trouble worming their way into the hearts of two fragile individuals, guarding themselves against the world with the others arms. Hermione held in her doubts, binding them tight with her determination, but the longer she remained in Fleur's arms the more they struggled. They tugged and squirmed until even the peace that had settled itself into her breast was fading slightly. Eventually she couldn't contain the growing doubt.

"Fleur?" Hermione asked hesitantly.

"What is it, ma mignonne?" Fleur asked sleepily, her usually carefully set face was relaxed and her eyes were closed. "Veelas are predators right?" Hermione asked, phrasing it as gently as she could. "Naturally," Fleur responded instantly, completely unbothered by the question. "That would make me the prey?" Hermione murmured. She felt Fleur stiffen for a second before the arms around her practically crushed her against the older witches chest. "I can't promise I won't hurt you mon chaton," Fleur whispered, never loosening her grip on the girl, "But I will not do it on purpose."

"How do I know you won't snap back to the way you were before?" Hermione murmured, actually scared of what would happen if she did. Hermione Granger was not a girl who put her emotions on the line very often and when she did, she was always afraid. Now she was terrified. "You don't, but please ma mignonne, trust me and have faith that I won't, because that's all I can do too."

"Why is that?" Hermione frowned, watching Fleur's throat as she swallowed, restraining some strong emotion. "Think of veelas as two sided coins. Veelas have two very different temperaments; one is nurturing, they care for the land, the flora and fauna, their sisters and any human who catches their fancy. Their other side is protective, jealous, sexual," Fleur sighed, "These two temperaments are mashed together and can switch as any time. We are…fleeting."

"You're only a quarter Veela, why is it so strong in you?" Hermione frowned.

"Strong?" Fleur laughed, "Mon mignonne, if you ever meet a true Veela, you will realize it is not strong in me."

"Oh," Hermione blinked.

"But, 'ermione, you have to understand," Fleur murmured, gazing at her levelly, sapphire eyes alight with an unidentifiable emotion, "The only thing a veela holds closer to her than her sisters, is her love."

"What do you mean?" Hermione frowned; she hated the ignorance, it was not a feeling she was used to. Her last attempt to learn about veela culture had been...interrupted. "I saying that if we proceed down this path, there will be challenges," Fleur explained slowly.

"You'll be jealous," Hermione frowned.

"And possessive," Fleur added calmly, "Incredibly so."

"I'm not sure I'm ready to even go down that path," Hermione admitted shyly, sitting up, shrugging off Fleur's arms. Fleur's eyes darkened slightly and her lips curved downwards. "Than I suggest you take some time to think, mon chaton, because the only thing worse than a jealous veela, is a veela left hanging."

Hermione was alone with her doubts, sitting on the highest step of the tallest tower in Hogwarts; like Cinderella, except this cage was of her own making. The loneliest place in the school, and that's exactly how she felt, lonely. She wrapped her arms around her knees and hugged them to her chest. She felt cold, without Fleur's warmth, unsteady without her arms. Hermione didn't know exactly when her loathing for the woman had turned into something else. She wouldn't call it love, but it was a kind of deep running affection that chose to appear at the oddest times. She didn't know what this was, or where it was going, but she was afraid. Hermione wasn't fond of things she didn't understand and this issue was currently at the top of her list of incomprehensible problems.

This wasn't like entering a normal relationship, Fleur was part veela and had made it no secret she was the jealous type. There were so many issues circulating the conundrum. Fleur was older, a professor, a woman who knew where she stood. Hermione had no idea where she stood; whenever she was with Fleur she felt so young and innocent. Moonlight was spilling through the glassless archway and Hermione breathed in, the moonlight bleaching her a deathly white, the colour scheme of sadness. Grey, white and black, flicking with shadows. She wished she could catch the moonbeams, weave them together to form a fabric softer than silk. Hermione imagined they would feel like Fleur's hair. That was the problem with Fleur; she was as hard to pin down, as moonbeams were to spin. Even to a witch.

As confused as she was about where she stood with Fleur she couldn't help thinking about her. About her moonbeam hair and her azure eyes that sparkled just for her whenever she looked into them. The safety she felt in those arms and the peace, so profound Hermione had thought she'd never feel it until the war was over. She leant her head against the cool stone and fluttered her eyes closed. Why couldn't this be simple, like writing an essay? An introduction to the characters, the body paragraphs were they outlined the benefits and disadvantages, all leading into a short neat conclusion. Just like a fairy tale's 'happily ever after'. Unfortunately life wasn't a fairy tale and Hermione was confused enough for all the Disney princesses combined.

_With Fleur_

She felt vulnerable; it was funny in a bitter way. She was an ice queen and as far as her emotional shields were concerned, she was standing too close to the fire. That girl was less raising the room temperature than setting up a burning pyre the size of the Empire State Building. She was seated in her office, pacing anxiously. She told herself she was just burning off the energy the numerous cups of coffee had given her. In truth, she was terribly anxious about what the girl decided. She would continue her pursuit either way, she always did. This time she cared about the nature of the pursuit. This time is didn't only mark the distinction between a romantic evening and statutory rape.

Hermione's decision made the difference between romance and a broken heart. Fleur hated to consider it, consider her own heart being broken by a chase, but there was the thought. If Hermione refused to go along with this her heart _would _break. Fleur was confused; she was use to lust, to desire to need, what she wasn't use to was this waiting. Her heart felt like it was tearing apart with anxiety. She missed the girl, missed how she fit so perfectly in her arms. She ran a hand back through her hair and picked up her quill. She knew she would regret writing to her mother, but right now she would have swallowed cyanide to quell the fear in her heart.

_With Hermione_

She had barely slept, the coffee before her barely seemed drinkable, it needed to be stronger, far stronger. The light in the great hall was too bright and a headache was pounding her temple with a vengeance. If this was love, it certainly hurt, a physical pain to match her state of mental disarray. She rubbed her temple, wincing as the pain increased; it hardly helped that it was a Monday morning. "'Ermione," An urgent voice called. Hermione glanced up to see Fleur coming towards her looking more than a little frazzled. Which seemed both out of place and perfect for the woman, the emotion heightening the glow in Fleur's incandescent eyes. Fleur sat beside her and fell entirely silent, barely even breathing.

Hermione watched her, saw the play of emotion in her eyes; urgency, anger, fear and fondness. Hermione broke the silence first and leant against Fleur, hoping she hadn't decided to revert to being cold and manipulative. "I missed you," Hermione admitted, breathing in Fleur's scent slowly, it was better than coffee. Even admitting she had missed the woman had taken a disproportionate amount of strength, considering it was three words. Fleur sighed in relief and pulled Hermione close, relishing the contact like a swimmer dying for air. Fleur would have damned the teachers, students and ministry to just hold Hermione, but Hermione would not. So with great reluctance Fleur let her go, but stayed close, shoulders touching. Both parties taking comfort in the proximity.

"I'm confused, Fleur," Hermione admitted, wringing her hands together until Fleur took them in her own under the cover of the table. "This will not be easy, 'ermione. I do not expect you to love me, yet," Fleur smiled, though her eyes shone with a sadness Hermione couldn't even begin to fathom. "But, ironically, we have more pressing matters."

"Did the Death Eaters-" Hermione gasped.

"No, no more than usual. It is my fault actually," Fleur grumbled and Hermione frowned. This was yet another side of Fleur Hermione hadn't seen; lighter than the gentle Fleur and tamer than the predator. "I'm afraid I couldn't sleep last night," Fleur admitted, Hermione could guess how much effort that took to admit. She smiled encouragingly; she too had suffered the insomnia. "I wrote to my Mother for…advice," Fleur murmured, blushing.

Hermione restrained a small laugh; she never imagined Fleur would slip enough with her cold mask to let something as human as a blush appear. "She decided to come to Hogwarts to visit."

"Is that so terrible?" Hermione frowned. This area of knowledge was foreign to her, to her recollection she had never even read a romance novel.

"I'm afraid a few extended family members will be coming too," Fleur scowled, though her anxiety showed through her displeasure. Hermione was still nonplussed so Fleur elaborated, "They will be staying in the forest."

"Oh."

They waited in the entrance hall, silent, utterly silent. For once Hermione couldn't get a read on Fleur's emotion. Not even slightly, she wasn't in any of the three moods Hermione was becoming familiar with, this was something more. Hermione was scared, she didn't know much about Veelas, pureblood veelas, but what she didn't wasn't exactly comforting. The old myths said the only good villy was a dead villy*. Hermione only hoped that it was only Fleur's mother Apolline; she alone was enough to make Hermione nervous. She didn't even know where she and Fleur stood and she was already meeting the family. Fleur seemed to sense her unrest and she wrapped an arm around Hermione's shoulders and pulled her close. So that was the facet Fleur was exhibiting, she was being protective. She imagined Ron appearing at this point in time might well have been lethal for him, literally.

"Relax mon amour," Fleur breathed in her ear, "I will not let anything happen to you."

"I know," Hermione replied, she didn't know how she did, but she did. She leant into Fleur who actively pulled her closer and gazed into her eyes. "Thank you," Fleur murmured, resting her forehead against Hermione's.

"For what?" Hermione blinked.

"Resisting, I doubt I would have found this if you hadn't," Fleur smiled sadly. Hermione stood on her toes and placed a soft kiss on Fleur's lips. Fleur leant down and deepened the kiss. Fleur placed her hands against Hermione's hips and pushed her back against the wall. She raised one hand to stroke the younger witch's cheek and brush back her hair as she slipped her tongue against Hermione's. Hermione gasped as Fleur rocked their hips together, completely uncaring that someone could walk into the entryway at any time. At that current moment, neither did Hermione.

Fleur trailed the hand against Hermione's cheek lower as the Veela left Hermione's lips alone, instead targeting a sensitive spot on Hermione's neck just below the chin. Hermione barely suppressed a soft groan as Fleur's hand traced her neckline, toying with the collar of her shirt before going lower, tracing exposed flesh. Nearly reaching the line of Hermione's bra strap when they heard a soft cough. Hermione glanced up, cheeks flaming as Fleur drew back. Framed in the entrance was a tall woman, as blonde as Fleur with the same cobalt eyes that managed to look both amused and wise at the same time. "Mother," Fleur nodded, less than ashamed for her actions. "It's nice to meet you," Hermione volunteered gazing at her feet. This woman was going to get the wrong impression of her. That kiss was probably the most out of character thing she had ever done. "I'll take eet 'ou are 'ermione?" Apolline smirked; her French accent was far more obvious than Fleur's. "Yes, ma'am," Hermione nodded, trying to marshal what little logic she had left and save some face.

"Eet is a pleasure to meet 'ou, 'ermione," Apolline smiled kindly. Despite being more Veela than Fleur she seemed to have far more control. Maybe if you were only slightly veela is was harder to control? "Ah, we were just ah-" Hermione blushed, cursing herself for not thinking the sentence through. "Do not worry, Cherie," Apolline laughed, "I know Fleur, eet iz to be expected, non?"

"It is," Fleur nodded, smirking at Hermione's discomfort, but taking her hand nonetheless. "'Ermione, Cherie, we would love 'ou to 'ave dinner with us, but per'aps I could speak wiz my daughter alone?" Apolline asked gently.

"Of course," Hermione nodded, eager to escape and recover the shreds of her dignity. "I will find you late," Fleur murmured in her ear. Hermione wasn't sure if she meant for dinner, or to finish what they had started. Hermione had to admit, she was a little excited for one, but terrified for both. It seemed that was going to be standard where Fleur was concerned.

_With Fleur and Apolline (Speaking in French)_

"Are you sure Fleur?" Apolline sighed.

"Quite," Fleur frowned, hanging her head, "I can't control my emotion around her, I was afraid I had scared her off."

"It certainly didn't look like that," Apolline smirked.

"I don't understand myself, mother. I shouldn't be falling for Hermione, she was meant to be a passing fancy," Fleur scowled.

"I thought that about your father," Apolline smiled nostalgically. "You must be careful, Veelas true loves have a habit of dying tragically," She warned.

"Father didn't," Fleur frowned.

"I protected him constantly his whole life. I nearly drove us apart when we were first wed, don't make the same mistake," She sighed.

"Why is Grandmother here?" Fleur asked, changing the topic. She couldn't bear the thought of losing Hermione; she had only just found her. "She wishes to meet the girl, there is something different about that one," Apolline frowned slightly. Many veela found the woman terrifying; Fleur shuddered to think of poor Hermione. "Do you love her, Fleur?" Apolline asked gently.

"Yes," Fleur whispered, clutching her hair as she let out a shaky laugh, "But she doesn't love me."

"Not yet," Apolline clarified, "If she is worth your heart she will survive your grandmother."

"That has been said before," Fleur muttered darkly.

"That boy was unwise, he didn't die painfully," Apolline shuddered.

"That's what Grandmother told us anyway," Fleur pointed out, worrying her lip.

"If you truly love the girl, she will come to no harm," Apolline smiled, placing a comforting hand on Fleur's knee. "I wanted it to be fairy tale," Fleur murmured, knowing full well she sounded young and naïve. "Everyone does, my love," Apolline smiled. "Just remember, my love. You have just as many cards as she does." Fleur nodded slowly and leant into her Mother's embrace. She had been told loving came naturally, and it did. It was all the details that didn't. She was anxious and scared and most of all she just wanted Hermione in her arms. But of course, she wasn't there. You can't have everything you want.

_*A quote from a reference book of European Myths and Legends._

_Please excuse the horrible attempt at writing a French accent; that is the main reason I write Fleur without it. This chapter was mostly about the relationship, though I couldn't resist having Apolline catching them. I decided to add the Grandmother for a bit of a shake up, I may have a twist in mind. Hope you enjoyed the chapter and please review-Lark _


	10. Emotional Back Flip

_Thanks for reviewing, don't worry guys, Hermione's not giving in yet, not really. She just doesn't quite understand how possessive the relationship really is. That's where the Grandmother comes in ;) there'll be plenty of bumps along the road yet. I was thinking about writing a chapter entirely in Fleur's perspective, what do you guys think? Anyway, enjoy and review-Lark_

Hermione had been alone with her thoughts all afternoon and they were doing little to allow her peace of mind. Hermione hadn't technically said yes to being with Fleur. She had admitted that she missed the older woman and Fleur had taken that as a yes. Hermione knew she was picking at her language, but didn't that tell her that she wasn't sure? She was certain she was ready, what Fleur wanted was so permanent, so close. The idea scared her, nearly as much as the impending war. How could anyone be thinking about happily ever after at a time like this? The doubt was reaching a climax when Fleur chose to reappear, looking noticeably less chipper than before.

"Mon amour," Fleur smiled, "Are you ready?"

"Sure," Hermione nodded with no real energy.

"Perfect," Fleur beamed, not noticing Hermione's despondency. That was the thing about Fleur; she had a habit of not noticing. Hermione remained silent as Fleur pulled her down the corridor. "Where are we having the dinner?" Hermione asked to break the silence. "The room of requirement, we had house elves prepare the feat," Fleur explained. Hermione scowled at the mention of house elves, the guys knew better than to mention the creatures. "And who will be there?" Hermione asked softly, still feeling terribly unsure. "My Mother, my Grandmother, you and I," Fleur listed, running a thumb over the back of Hermione's hand.

"Why are they here again?" Hermione murmured. Fleur shot her a glance out of the corner of her eye. "They only wish to help," Fleur shrugged.

"It isn't marriage counseling," Hermione muttered, almost too softly to hear.

"Ma Cherie," Fleur frowned, "What is the matter?"

"This is fast, Fleur," Hermione admitted, voicing her doubts, "I'm not sure."

"You said yes, mon amour," Fleur reminded her comfortingly, but Hermione thought she detected heat in her words. Hermione knew she would regret her next words, but she said them anyway, "Technically I didn't."

Hermione knew she had hit a major nerve because Fleur stopped walking, stopped moving. Her body was so still she could have been a statue, a Greek statue of a goddess perhaps; it seemed befitting of someone such as Fleur. "You didn't seem to be saying no in the entrance hall," Fleur accused, her eyes were flinty and Hermione shivered. She recognized this Fleur all too well, the cold Fleur; and it was her own fault that she had appeared. "You didn't exactly give me an opportunity," Hermione scowled defensively.

"And you accuse me of emotional backflips," Fleur hissed, cobalt eyes flashing.

"Yes, I do," Hermione shrugged, hardening her face to match Fleur's.

"We will discuss this later," Fleur vowed as she resumed dragging Hermione down the corridor. "We're still having dinner with you family?" Hermione gaped, she hardly felt up to it. Anger that she didn't fully understand was lingering in her mind; perhaps her lack on control angered her. "My Grandmother is not the kind of person you stand up," Fleur replied by way of explanation.

"Do I get a choice in this?" Hermione scowled.

"No," Fleur snapped.

"Didn't think so."

The atmosphere between them was icy, at best, when they arrived on the seventh floor. Fleur opened the door silently and ushered Hermione inside with an impatient hand on her lower back. The room of requirement had provided once again, a grand table occupied the center of the room. A blazing fireplace was directly across from the entrance, lighting the room with what should have been a flickering ambience. In stead the light looked superficial and Hermione couldn't feel the warmth of the flames. She would have liked to be back in the dorm reading right now. She knew she had acted impulsively with Fleur so far and she was beginning to regret it. There was still affection though, the woman still made her feel safe, wanted. That was only half the time.

Fleur's paradigms had Hermione more confused than a pureblood in an electronics store and she didn't know if she could handle it. Not with the impending war, not with the mug shots of Death Eaters leering at her from the pages of the prophet, not with the deaths and disappearances, hell, she didn't know if she could handle it even without the added factors.

Two women were already in the room, the woman closest to them was Apolline but the woman by the fire was a mystery. Hermione presumed she was Fleur's Grandmother, though she didn't look a day past thirty-five. Her eyes were a darker blue than Fleur's and her cheekbones were higher. She had something unidentifiable about her, which to Hermione, screamed that she wasn't human, that she was too beautiful to be real. Maybe that was because Hermione knew better than to think she was human. "Is this the girl?" She asked and Hermione was taken aback at the upper class English accent. "Oui, Grandmother this is 'ermione, 'ermione this is my Grandmother, Elise."

"A pleasure to meet you Hermione," Elise smiled; to Hermione the smile seemed slightly predatory. "A pleasure in kind," Hermione nodded.

"Shall we sit?" Apolline suggested; she seemed to sense the tension between Hermione and Fleur. Hermione sat and was quickly joined by Fleur on her right and Elise on her left. Hermione hurriedly took a glass of mead, just to give her something to do. "A toast I think," Elise smiled happily. Hermione glanced at her warily before taking up her glass. "Young love!" Elise toasted.

Hermione blinked and didn't raise her glass in time for the toast. "We're not in love," Hermione denied. She could barely deal with Fleur by herself, she was certainly not going to sit by and let a domineering Grandmother have her say. "No, what would you call it then?" Elise probed, her smile never even faltered, unlike Fleur. Fleur was currently crushing Hermione's hand between her own. Hermione supposed she was being unreasonable, maybe she was as two sided as Fleur. Guess that made them even. "It's early," Fleur replied edgily.

"I was asking young Hermione," Elise smirked. Hermione got the distinct impression Elise was a hard person to get along with. "It's too early to tell," Hermione shrugged, deciding perhaps she should be more diplomatic. Apolline chose that moment to jump in, "Come now, lets feast on food before we feast on talk." Hermione was all too happy to comply, as was Fleur, only Elise continued to smile, remaining completely silent as she surveyed Hermione. Hermione shuddered; even Fleur had never managed to feel her more like prey than Elise did during that dinner.

Hermione barely ate and by the time they had all finished she was nursing a cup of coffee that was fast turning cold. "So," Elise leant back and laced her fingers together, "When did you meet?"

"During the tri-wizard tournament," Hermione allowed, guarding her expression closely. "Three years ago," Fleur translated. The cold glint was still in her eyes so Hermione had no doubt the predator Fleur was still very much present. "So it wasn't love at first sight," Elise smirked.

"I think we determined that," Fleur scowled slightly.

"Ah, I see," Elise chuckled as Apolline covered her eyes with her slim palm; whatever was coming Hermione suspected it wasn't good. "So you love the young lady but she does not reciprocate?"

"It's early days," Hermione injected, now was certainly not a good time to discuss she and Fleur's fight, if you could call it that. "You don't understand the love of a veela, young one," Elise corrected her.

"Enough, Grandmother," Fleur scowled. Elise shot her a cold look that Hermione doubted even Snape could beat. "The girl needs to understand," Elise insisted.

"What?" Hermione demanded, she loathed being ill informed.

"Our love is not like your own, it is fierce, possessive and incredibly sexual," Elise explained and Hermione blushed slightly. "Once it is discovered it can not be undone, it is intense and life long. We rarely love, Hermione, lust is what we know best. When we love it is a combination of love and lust that many humans can't handle," Elise chuckled, "You will have it easier as Fleur is only a quarter."

The way Elise said it, that Fleur was only part Veela, absolutely dripped with disdain. "It's probably worse that way," Hermione replied quietly, she may be confused, but Fleur didn't deserve that level of disdain. "Perhaps," Elise's lips curled slightly. "In any case, there is no such thing as 'early days' in a veela relationship."

"Maybe not, but I'm not a veela," Hermione retorted icily. Elise surveyed her with cobalt eyes, so similar to Fleur's. "It does not matter, the point stands," Elise shrugged. "Grandmother," Fleur hissed.

"In a relationship such as yours, there is no going back. You belong to Fleur," Elise informed her evenly. "I belong to no-one," Hermione snapped instantly.

"Of course you do," Elise waved her hand dismissively, "Just as Fleur belongs to you. There is no going back, it just depends on how long it takes you to give in."

"No, it doesn't," Hermione shook her head, her anger and doubts combining like vinegar and bi-carb soda, boiling over and finally cracking her mask. "I decide the result of my life."

"Not in this matter," Elise informed her bluntly.

"Grandmother, enough," Fleur injected vehemently, "We haven't had much time to discuss anything aside from the present."

"Have you fucked her yet?" Elise asked suddenly, managing to make Hermione blush again, even through her anger. "That is none of your business," Hermione growled. "I'll take that as a no," Elise smirked, "You would not be having these qualms if you had."

"Enough," Hermione snapped, bushing her chair back and standing abruptly, "I will not sit here and let someone I just met try to dictate my life."

"'Ermione, wait," Fleur frowned.

"No, I didn't see you exactly defending me there," Hermione hissed.

"Mon Amour," Fleur frowned slightly.

"I'm not your anything," Hermione growled vehemently before storming out of the room. She was livid, there were few things that could make her so angry, she could count them on her fingers. It seemed she had added another person to that list.

Ron was the first to notice something was wrong, surprisingly enough. He watched her carefully through breakfast, smiling whenever he caught her looking. It took him to the walk to Herbology to say anything. "Hey, are you alright?" He asked, blushing slightly as he asked it. She hadn't told the guys anything about Fleur, in truth she was scared of what they would think. Ron therefore had no idea why she was crying, but surprisingly he wasted no time in comforting her once he noticed the puffy state of her eyes. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and drew her to his shoulder. "Hey there, don't cry," He murmured, stroking her hair.

"Thanks, Ron," Hermione breathed, moving closer as he tightened his hold.

"What's wrong 'mione?" Ron asked.

"Just the war getting to me," Hermione allowed carefully.

"We'll be all right, you've got me, Harry, my family, anyone in Gryffindor," Ron listed, squeezing her shoulders comfortingly.

"I know, it's just, thinking about what will happen next year," Hermione shivered. She wasn't lying, next year was plaguing her with worries, it just wasn't the only thing. "Hey now, we'll be fine," Ron smiled encouragingly, placing a hand under her chin so she would look him in the eye. They froze, Ron smiling comfortingly and Hermione gazing into his eyes.

He ducked lower and planted a sweet, clumsy kiss on her lips; it was different from the kiss he had given her at the end of the last year. It was sweeter, yet more sure than the last. She placed her hands on his wide shoulders; this kiss was entirely different from kissing Fleur. Ron pulled her against him, never deepening the kiss, keeping it light, sweet and innocent. They pulled apart, both blushing slightly. Ron opened his mouth but he didn't get to say anything before he was yanked backwards. Hermione's mouth opened in surprise as she realized who had pulled him off her. Fleur was standing in the sunlight, eyes blazing with fury and face set in a leer. Ron barely had time to straighten before she punched him; straight and hard in the jaw. Hermione saw the hinge unlock as the punch his him, popping his jaw out of place. Hermione was terrified an utterly shocked, she pulled the wand from her pocket and aimed a curse at Fleur. She dodged it, but the distraction seemed to snap her back to reality.

Ron, who had fallen to the floor, was gazing up at the Veela like he had never really seen her before. "Back off him, Fleur," Hermione snarled, dashing to stand between the two. "You kissed him," Fleur growled and for a moment Hermione was scared Fleur was going to move on to her. This is Fleur in full Veela flight, and she looked less than human. Her eyes were shinning manically and her fists were slowly clenching and unclenching. "I'm allowed to," Hermione retorted savagely.

"No, you're not," Fleur retorted.

"You don't own me, I don't want any part of this," Hermione yelled, crouching anxiously beside Ron, who seemed to daze to be following the conversation. "You weren't saying that yesterday," Fleur argued, voice deadly quiet.

"Well you weren't throwing punches then. Besides Veela have thrall, how do I know I wasn't enchanted?" Hermione hot back harshly.

"I wouldn't," Fleur frowned, slowly calming, but still dangerous.

"I can't believe that," Hermione hissed, helping Ron up, "Lets go to the hospital wing," Hermione murmured to him in a gentler tone.

"'Ermione," Fleur called, tone slightly distressed as she stretched a hand towards the girl. "No, don't touch me, or him," Hermione hissed, "Ever again."

"You kissed him," Fleur repeated, sounding wounded.

"For that you would have killed him?" Hermione demanded. Fleur's silence was all the answer she needed. Hermione helped Ron hobble towards the castle, "Never again, Fleur, never."

Hermione sat in the hospital wing; Ron was asleep, back to normal thanks to the care of Madame. She was keeping him in over night to make sure he wasn't suffering a concussion. Hermione was being kept there because she refused to explain what happened and the nurse believed she was suffering shock. Maybe the emotional backflip hadn't been today; maybe it had been yesterday when she had been so willing to give herself to the Veela. Maybe it really was thrall; she had been acting so out of character. Would Fleur really have done that to her? She would have been so sure that she wouldn't have earlier; even after their fight she still believed Fleur wouldn't have stooped so low. After seeing her attack Ron over a kiss though, she wasn't so sure. Elise had said Veela love was permanent, but nothing about what happened to a person should a Veela fall for them, not vica versa or mutual. Hermione highly suspected it could be fatal. The only question was which party was it fatal to?

_This chapter was somewhat more serious. It was kind of fun to write about Hermione and Fleur fighting. If Fleur can emotionally backflip so can Hermione. I felt bad beating Ron up but I felt it was a necessary plot device. Hope you enjoyed the chapter and I promise Fleur won't always be overly violent. Please review and keep following-Lark_


	11. Talk To Me

_Thank you all for the reviews. I still have another twist in mind; it should appear in the next few chapters. Hope you enjoy the chapter and review-Lark_

When Hermione woke it took her several seconds to work out where she was. The white light, the starched blankets, the lingering smell of disinfectant; she was in the hospital wing. Which was highly unusual for her, usually her visits to the hospital wing were to make sure Harry was still alive; she was rarely the one who needed treatment. Once she realized where she was the events of the previous night began to plague her mind. Ron, oh god, Ron, her gaze shot over to the now empty bed. "If you're looking for the red head," Madame Pomfrey interrupted her thoughts briskly. "I released him earlier and instructed him to go to class."

"Oh," Hermione nodded, calming down considerably.

"Now rest, I am still not convinced you are not suffering shock," She dismissed.

"With all due respect Madame," Hermione argued, "I was petrified by a basilisk when I was thirteen, fought in the Department of Mystery when I was sixteen, defended the school last year. If that didn't give me shock this won't."

Madame Pomfrey eyed her for a moment before conceding, "Alright, you may go, but no classes." She instructed.

"Yes ma'am," Hermione nodded obediently, for once in her life she didn't feel up to class. She slipped off the gurney, pulling her black robes over her base uniform and straightening her hair. What was waiting for her out there? Ron would have a lot of questions; Fleur would still be on the rampage, Apolline was still on campus and Hermione didn't even want to think about Elise. Hermione strolled the corridors slowly, feeling alien and alone in the silent passages. She wondered if this is what the ghosts felt like, isolated, like they were stuck halfway between life and death. She retreated to the west tower, where the astronomy observation deck was located. She expected peace, what she didn't expect was Harry. He was leaning against one of the ramparts, glasses low on his nose as he read.

"Harry," She blinked, "Shouldn't you be in class?"

"Free period," He responded instantly, she assumed it was what he told anyone who asked. "Why are you here?" He asked, genuinely surprised to see her.

"I was in the Hospital Wing, I was told not to go to class," Hermione shrugged.

"Was Ron there? He didn't come back to the dorm yesterday," Harry frowned.

"Ah yeah, he was there, he had an accident," She allowed carefully. Did Ron even remember who had assaulted him? "Is he ok?" Harry asked, concern filling his emerald eyes. "Yeah, Madame Pomfrey fixed him up, he should be in class," Hermione mused.

"Good. What happened? What was the accident?" Harry queried, taking his attention off his book. "Ah," Hermione stalled.

"Hermione, you can tell me anything," Harry promised, it seemed he really was trying to jump out of the hermit hole he dug. "I have a...problem," She admitted with difficulty. "Problem?" Harry frowned, "As in an academic problem or furry little problem kind of problem?"

"No-ones a werewolf," Hermione sighed, "But it has to do with magical creatures."

"Hagrid-"

"Not for this particular problem," Hermione interrupted him, "It's rather delicate."

"You don't have a baby dragon stashed in the dorm do you? Or did you manage to free all the house elves?" Harry asked, only half joking.

"Ah no," She blushed.

"Hermione, what is it?" Harry frowned, reaching out to hold her hand.

"I'm not sure if it's safe to hold my hand, Harry," She whispered.

"Why not?" He frowned; jade eyes puzzled.

"Because Ron kissed me and he ended up in the hospital wing," She forced out in a rush. "Hermione, you're human right?" Harry frowned, unsure of where this was going or what she was about to tell him.

"What? Of course!" She exclaimed, "But someone I may be…involved with, isn't."

"Whom are you involved with?" He scowled; it was like trying to plus one and two and getting five. "Fleur," Hermione replied, too quietly for him to hear.

"Who?" Harry asked, slightly exasperated.

"Fleur," She repeated, blushing furiously.

"Romantically?" Harry baulked, as Hermione's blush deepened. "Isn't she with Bill?"

"No, they broke up months ago, they kept it quiet," Hermione replied shyly.

"Um, ok, wow," Harry blinked, trying to recover from the surprise, "What's the problem?"

"She's a Veela," Hermione retorted, stressing the V word strongly.

"I didn't take you as a kind to find that a problem," He frowned.

"No, I mean, it's the way she acts because of her heritage," Hermione explained, slightly defensive, "She comes on really strong and she's possessive."

"Possessive? Oh," His eyes widened and his mouth opened, "She put Ron in hospital?"

"Yes, because he kissed me," Hermione nodded.

"Does that count as cheating?" Harry asked carefully.

"No, we never agreed we were dating, I mean, I don't even know if I can stand her."

"So she's the problem? Her possessiveness?" Harry mused.

"In part, her family is here. I mean, her mother is lovely, but her Grandmother," Hermione scowled, "She's a full Veela."

"I can't say I'm following," Harry admitted. Hermione took in a deep breath before launching into a full explanation. Harry was dead silent the whole time.

"So you and Fleur were fighting and Elise made it worse?" Harry summed up.

"Pretty much and I'm so scared Harry," Hermione murmured.

"I have a piece of advice," Harry decided, "But you're not going to like it."

"Hit me," Hermione insisted.

"You need to go talk this over with Fleur, decided where you stand."

"I can't," Hermione refused.

"You have to Hermione, you owe it to you and her. If you don't, how many more Ron incidents are you going to have?" He reasoned. Hermione eyed him for a moment before sighing, "I don't know. Thank you though, Harry," She smiled.

"It's alright, you're still one of my best friends," He beamed.

"Yeah, you too."

Hermione was scared as she stood outside Fleur's office door; it was after dinner so she presumed the Veela would be present. Hermione knocked quietly and waited for Fleur's low reply, "Enter." Hermione opened the door slowly and entered the softly lit office. Fleur was seated behind the desk, legs crossed primly and hair tied back as she sat marking papers. "Hello, Miss Granger," She greeted the girl coolly.

"Fleur-" Hermione began.

"Professor," Fleur corrected icily. Hermione gazed at her, eyeing off the cold, indifferent mask she was portraying. "Fleur," Hermione repeated forcefully, the Veela glancing up at her as she said it. "We have to talk."

"I thought we did," Fleur sneered.

"We need to talk again, I was mad, you broke Ron's jaw," Hermione reminded her.

"He took what wasn't his," Fleur shrugged indifferently.

"I'm not yours, Fleur, not anyone's," Hermione sighed, "You have to accept that. Accept that I won't swoon and follow you around like a puppy."

"I see you haven't come to terms with a veela relationship," Fleur scoffed.

"You haven't come to terms with human relationships," Hermione shot back.

"I was under the impression we weren't undergoing either," Fleur spat.

"We aren't," Hermione shrugged before taking in a deep, shuddering breath, "But that doesn't mean we won't be, at some point."

"I believe the words you used were 'don't touch me, ever again'," Fleur sneered.

"Fleur, trust me, if we walk away like this, one of us is going to be hurt more than the other," Hermione sighed, "And we both know it won't be me."

"You suggest that I am so hung up over a juvenile, sexually repressed nerd that I'll be reduced to hiding in my office and listening to sad music?" Fleur scoffed.

Hermione scowled, this was a bad Fleur, a hurt Fleur, and Hermione didn't know how to deal with it. She clenched her hands together and crossed the room in three strides, placing her hands against the desk as she leant forward, towards Fleur. "Isn't that what you're doing?" Hermione demanded.

"No, I have been with my family, my Grandmother was rather affronted by your manner," Fleur hissed.

"She's affronted?" Hermione asked in disbelief, "I was just asked if I'd fucked you by a sixty year old member of your family. Who was disappointed with me when I hadn't."

"Grandmother is older than sixty," Fleur corrected her, "And for a Veela it is a disappointment."

"But I'm not a Veela, I'm human and I clearly have more scruples than you," Hermione repeated in exasperation.

"If you were a boy I would not be having this argument," Fleur hissed in frustration. "But I'm not, so deal with it," Hermione demanded.

"What do you want, 'ermione?" Fleur scowled. Hermione circled around the desk so she was standing before Fleur. "I care for you," Hermione admitted, "But I don't love you," She tried to soften the blow, but it still sounded harsh, "And you don't own me, I don't want anyone to own me, ever. I may give them my heart, but not all of me."

"I have said my piece on this matter," Fleur frowned, standing to pace.

"If you love me, work with me," Hermione requested, feeling smaller now the confident Veela was standing. "I can't forgive you for hurting Ron, but I can't hate you for it either," Hermione murmured.

"What then?" Fleur sighed, taking a chance and reaching out to hold the girl's hand lightly. Hermione didn't squeeze it back, but nor did she pull away. "Give me time, I'm not anything like you Fleur, I don't rush into things, not usually," Hermione took in a deep breath.

Fleur eyed her critically, "You want me to court you?" She deduced.

"Something along those lines," Hermione nodded, blushing slowly.

"A Veela does not do slow, ma mignonne," Fleur sighed.

"Please Fleur, for me," Hermione begged.

"All right," She relented, "For you, we will try."

Plans never go as one intends, love is never simple and fate is rarely kind, these rules go doubly so for Veelas and their unfortunate loves. A fleeting creature such as a Veela is naturally without romantic ties and as such, the universe punishes them when they form one. In this case the universe decided to act through someone close to the Veela's heart, her Grandmother. Hermione may have convinced Fleur to try the slow approach, but a Veela as old as Elise does not believe in such things. As such she has planned an obstacle to hurry the process. However Elise's plans often fall to ruin and chaos faster than a Veela can break a man's spirits. Unfortunately for Hermione she was on the receiving end of one such plan, if she thought Fleur was chaos, she was screwed.

Hermione wasn't entirely sure why she felt the need to confront Elise; maybe it was just her nature. She had asked Hagrid where to find her, as the Professor for Care Of Magical Creatures he had been charged with making sure the visiting Veela were happy. As it was, they were being housed in magically extended tents just inside the forbidden forest. The students had been told that there were blast ended skrewts wandering around to stop them going near. The last thing McGonagall wanted were students to stop studying and start mooning over the creatures. That was the best outcome of students wandering across the encampment. Veela were many things of which seductress was only one. They had earned their bad reputation in the old days and Hermione highly doubted anything had changed.

She could feel the thrall pulsating through the trees as she neared the camp, she wondered how many Veelas had come. Surely three or four couldn't generate such a strong glamour. Sure enough, when she cleared the tree's she found a cluster of no fewer than twelve tents, at the center of which was a fire. It would have looked like a scene from an old legend, had it not been for the modern items here and there. Shoes, a radio, a generator; they spoiled the picture. As she neared heads poked out of tents. Most were not blonde, for some reason she had gotten it into her head that they all must be as fair as Fleur and her family. They followed her movements with predatory eyes that seemed to hang, unsupported in the shadows.

She barely made it three steps into the camp before a red headed woman accosted her. Well, maybe not red, more like flaming claret that shone like it was lit from within. "Hello sweetie, didn't you Professor warn you not to come out this way?" She greeted huskily, standing closer than any stranger had a right too.

"She did, but I'm looking for someone," Hermione frowned, she was determined and was not going to be hindered by these women...creatures. "It was only a matter of time before one of us snuck out for midnight snack," A Veela with hair as silver as the full moon shrugged. "Nothing like that," Hermione argued, "She's related to a friend of mine."

"That happens sometimes," The red head laughed, she really did make even the Weasley's bright hair colour seem tarnished in comparison. "Who are you looking for, darling?" The second Veela smiled sweetly, but Hermione knew the expression was mostly false, at least presently. "Elise," She nodded confidently.

"Ah," The red head nodded, she seemed disappointed, "I assume you know Fleur then?"

"Yes," Hermione nodded.

"Fine, follow me," She shrugged, flipping her hair over her shoulder and seizing Hermione's hand. Well, this could have gone better.

The red head led Hermione past the fire, the air smelt of a sweet smoke Hermione assumed was produced by specific kinds of timber and leaves. She wondered vaguely if it had anything to do with divination. "I'm melody," The Veela informed her with a sly grin. "Hermione," She replied, just to be polite. They stopped outside a tent as Melody raised the flap and led Hermione inside. It only took Hermione realizing the tent was empty to catch on to what was happening. "I'm flattered, but I'm just looking for Elise," She insisted.

"Don't fret sweetie, I'm not going to hurt you," Melody smiled sweetly.

"Yeah, cause you're just going to take me to Elise," Hermione scowled. Melody paused for a moment, concentrating. Hermione was confused for a moment before a sheer wave of thrall hit her. Unlike with Fleur, Hermione could tell exactly what was going on here. If Fleur ever used thrall it was subtle or barely there; this was obvious and intense. It filled her with a kind of need she didn't even know she was capable of harboring. It was all she could do not to beg the woman to take her and damn all else.

Hermione knew better, thrall was like an imperius curse, you had to throw it off or you were damned. Slowly, so as to not give off any outward warning signs, she brought up her occulmency shields. Few people knew that Veela thrall was a mental attack, but those that did were better off with the knowledge. Melody was approaching her so she raised the shields faster; back in her right mind by the time the Veela grabbed her. In a less than chaste fashion at that. "Still want to find Elise?" She asked silkily.

"Yes actually, I would also like you to let go of me," Hermione insisted and pushed the woman away. "You shook off the thrall enough to raise your walls," Melody observed with a smirk, "But it won't hold for long, I do hope I'm around when it fails."

"Elise, please," Hermione asked again.

"Fine, follow me," Melody relented and led her back into the smoky air and to another tent. Hermione hoped this tent was occupied, Melody hadn't let up her thrall and Hermione could certainly feel her shields wavering. Now she could understand what Fleur meant about their strength.

Thankfully Elise was in this tent, though she wasn't alone, what appeared to be a Hufflepuff was by her side. A sickly adoring smile fixed on his face as he looked up at her. "Let him go," Hermione demanded by way of greeting.

"He came by his own will," Elise shrugged.

"Does he stay by it?" Hermione hissed.

"Do you feel any thrall in the room?" Elise shot back. Hermione glared at Melody who lowered her thrall, not looking the slight bit guilty. Even with the thrall gone the boy remained there, swooning. "Melody, take the boy. I know you want the girl but currently that cannot happen," Elise murmured. The boy eagerly followed the red head out of the tent and Hermione shivered. She knew where they were going.

"So," Elise leant back, "I understand you and Fleur are speaking again?"

"Yes, we discussed things," Hermione allowed.

"Human things?" Elise scoffed.

"Yes, you seem rather out of touch with human relationships. We are very different to you and Fleur is three quarters us and only one quarter you," Hermione reasoned. "Tell yourself what you wish, child," Elise scoffed.

"I came to apologize for my manner at dinner in hope you would do the same," Hermione stated, changing the topic. "I accept your apology but refuse to say anything in return," Elise smirked.

"I thought you might," Hermione shrugged.

"Yet you came all this way," Elise observed.

"I believed it was right," Hermione retorted.

"Do you think it is right to deny Fleur her nature?" Elise smirked.

"No more than it is wrong to force me into anything," Hermione countered, "We agreed to take things slow."

"Deluded fools," Elise scoffed.

"Thank you for your time," Hermione nodded, not allowing the woman to infuriate her. She had learnt better. "I will see you around, no doubt, we have decided to stay for a while. The forest in ancient and heavy with magic."

"I hope you enjoy it here," Hermione nodded and turned to leave.

"Hermione, I suggest you be careful, you have already attracted attention to yourself, even before you came here," Elise warned.

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked coolly.

"It takes a unique person to shake a Veela thrall. Melody has eyes for you, be careful, unlike Fleur she in a full blooded Veela."

"Thank you for the warning," Hermione nodded and left the tent.

Hermione hurried out of the camp, passing by the tent Melody had lured her into. Moans could be heard through the fabric as well as a husky laugh. Hermione blushed and hurried on her way, trying to ignore the stares on her back or the thrall that followed her like a bad scent. She was beginning to suspect that though Fleur was the beginning of her troubles, she was hardly going to be the worst of them.

_I apologize profusely for the lack of Fleur in this chapter, but it was necessary to build the plot. Harry needs to have his time, as did the Veela motif. So thanks for reading, plot suggestions welcome and please review-Lark_


	12. Chocolate & Coffee

_Thank You all for reviewing and a shout out to Passionate Romantic01 for writing long reviews that never fails to make me smile. As for Apolline having better control than the rest of her family, it is because she's only half and she's older so she's had more time to practice, just to answer Zelda's Hero's query. I'm afraid that poor Hermione's troubles are just starting, thank you all for following and please enjoy-Lark_

Hermione was tense, the kind of tension that left you with muscle aches in the morning and headaches by the end of the shortest days. She had not seen Fleur since she returned from the forest, which Hermione was rather happy about. She didn't think her mind would last through another stressful encounter in a day that contained nothing but. Hermione tried not to think about the blonde Veela; she had her private dueling lesson that evening. If she didn't show up for that, then, and only then, did Hermione have a reason to worry. "You all right, 'mione?" Ron asked, glancing at her from across the library table.

Thankfully the knowledge of who had broken his jaw seemed to have slipped his mind. Well, more likely been removed from his mind, but as far as she could tell no extra damage had been done. "Sorry, I was just wondering where Harry was," Hermione lied smoothly. It concerned her how easily lies came to her lips of late. "He had a detention with Snape," Ron explained. Hermione sighed, Ron was right, some things never changed. However, it was unlike Snape to give lunchtime detentions, usually he reserved them for the evening, when he could let poor pupils Harry for hours on end.

"Again?" Hermione sighed, "Have you finished the essay, we really must get to Herbology."

"Almost, I'm on the conclusion," Ron frowned in frustration, eyebrows knitting together as he glared at the page.

"You really should have done it yesterday," Hermione reproached.

"I had a broken jaw," He argued pompously.

"Which Madame Pomfrey fixed in five seconds," Hermione scoffed.

"I don't remember that," He frowned slightly, eyes far focused, like he was trying to see shapes through thick mist. "You had a concussion, it will come back to you," Hermione replied calmly, shoving her things into her bag as Ron returned to writing his conclusion. "Done," Ron threw down his pen, giving Hermione a brief glance at his messy scrawl. "Brilliant, let's go," Hermione stood hurriedly. Down time meant time to think, sitting and waiting for Ron to finish his work allowed her mind to wander, which was not good.

"So," Ron beamed boyishly, "I remember kissing you before I had my jaw broken. What broke it again?"

"The Whomping Willow," Hermione replied quietly, she had figured it was plausible enough, considering the sadistic nature of the plant.

"I don't remember being that close," Ron frowned.

"Of course you don't," She tutted, "You were pretty much knocked out by a tree branch."

"Oh yeah, right," He conceded. They jogged down the stairs and joined the flow of students heading to class. "So, the kiss," Ron prompted.

"Right," Hermione blushed, "I don't know Ron, I mean, with the war coming I wouldn't want to risk our friendship."

"I get it," Ron nodded, though he sounded disappointed, "Are you sure?"

"I believe the girl said no," A throaty voice interrupted. Fleur approached them from a side corridor; her gait was too smooth, like the advance of a predator on their prey. Ron was gazing at her, face screwed up in concentration, trying to remember the full memory of what happened. Fleur seemed to guess this because her Fleur turned positively malicious.

"Run along, Mr. Weasley, I wouldn't want you to be late," Fleur scowled.

"Yes Professor. Come on 'mione," Ron nodded, making the mistake of taking her hand. "Miss Granger is to remain here, I need a word with her," Fleur corrected him, eyes flashing silver, a dangerous, hungry silver.

"Go, Ron," Hermione sighed, "I'll catch up."

"If you say so, 'mione," He shrugged and released her hand, shooting her a fond smile over his shoulder as he wove between the younger students. Fleur immediately took up her hand and pulled her away from the corridor and into an unused classroom. She released the younger girl and strode to the first desk before spinning, her eyes narrowed in annoyance. "You two seemed rather cozy," She hissed.

"As I have said, we are friends," Hermione frowned.

"Of course," Fleur's lips curled.

"You wanted to talk, Fleur? I really have to get to class," Hermione sighed, here come the tension headaches. "Grandmother informed me you went to apologize," Fleur scowled, unhappy at the change of topic.

"It felt it was necessary," Hermione replied, unashamed of her actions.

"It was dangerous, do you know what could have happened if you caught the attention of one of the clan?" Fleur bristled.

"No, I do not," Hermione replied shortly.

"You may think I am possessive and forward," Fleur shook her head slowly, advancing towards the younger girl.

"But full blooded Veelas are infinitely worse, I know," Hermione huffed.

"No, you don't," Fleur scowled, moving forward to stand inches from Hermione, azure eyes serious and sincere. "I may have broken the boys jaw," Fleur shrugged as she moved closer, backing Hermione into the door. "But a full blood would have killed him."

Fleur placed her hands against Hermione's hips, lighting thumbing the fabric there until her left hand slid under the shirt and against soft skin. Hermione's breath hitched, "Fleur, we agreed to go slow."

"Maybe I can't," Fleur smirked, her hand moving higher, resting against the girl's ribcage. "Fleur," Hermione protested as Fleur's right hand rose to her shoulder and pulled Hermione flush against her. "Maybe I won't," The Veela murmured, breath puffing against Hermione's cheeks.

"Whatever your Grandmother said, don't listen to her," Hermione begged, there was one person in control of this situation and it was not she. Though Fleur was slight she was far stronger than Hermione and had put that to use many times.

"She pointed out a great many things," Fleur murmured in Hermione's ear, her voice almost a purr. "That being?" Hermione scowled, trying unsuccessfully to push Fleur back. "You attracted attention to yourself, 'ermione," Fleur purred huskily, "It is in your best interest that you do not appear available as game."

"When I went there I was told I had already attracted attention to myself," Hermione scowled, "That's because of you, right?"

"Yes, it is," Fleur shrugged, pressing her lips against Hermione's neck, "It is uncommon for Veela to become involved with a human, long term. Even for a quarter Veela such as I."

"Then my going to the camp barely seems relevant," Hermione dismissed, turning her head so Fleur could no longer reach the point of her neck just below the ear.

"Of course it was relevant, they can identify you now," Fleur murmured, ignoring Hermione's deflection of her affection.

"Fleur, we can talk about this, but please, let me go," Hermione asked carefully. The Veela took in a deep breath before stepping back. "I am sorry, mon amour, my control slipped," Fleur frowned, looking genuinely embarrassed.

"It's all right," Hermione nodded, it wasn't really, but it kind of had to be at the same time.

Silence fell for a moment before Fleur resumed speaking, "I just needed to warn you, I was concerned for your wellbeing and as a Veela that manifests itself into desire."

"Why are you so concerned?" Hermione frowned.

"As I was saying, a full blood would have killed Ron," Fleur held up a hand to stop Hermione interrupting, "I may have forced myself on you in the library, but if a full blood felt as I do, they would take you, entirely, even if it was in the middle of a crowded room."

"I understand that they are…intense," Hermione frowned, "Is this important because I attracted attention to myself because of you?"

"Not exactly" Fleur seemed more hesitant about the conversation now she had calmed down.

"Fleur," Hermione prompted.

"It would seem you have managed to attract the attention of a full blood," Fleur forced out, flexing her hands.

"I have?" Hermione blinked, surprise flowing into fear and trepidation.

"Yes," Fleur reached out and took one of Hermione's hands, more to comfort herself, Hermione suspected. "Who- Melody," Hermione guessed, eyes widening as she recalled the Veela, blood red hair and emerald eyes to vibrant to ever be mistaken as human. "Did she make an advance?" Fleur scowled.

"Of a fashion," Hermione allowed, "Was she the Veela interested?"

"Oui, what did she do, 'ermione?" Fleur demanded.

"She attempted to use her thrall against me," Hermione admitted.

"You do not smell like sex," Fleur scowled, though she looked deeply hurt.

"I don't, what?" Hermione asked, caught between blushing and being annoyed.

"A pure blood Veela used strong thrall against you, you cannot say you resisted," Fleur frowned.

"I used occulmency," Hermione frowned.

"Merdre," Fleur hissed, "Do not get me wrong, 'ermione, I would not have wished you subjected to that."

"But the fact it didn't work is what attracted her attention," Hermione guessed.

"Exactly, she will not stop until you succumb or are classified as taken," Fleur explained.

"I will not classify, Fleur," Hermione frowned.

"I know," Fleur murmured huskily, reaching out and stroking Hermione's cheek. Hermione sighed, this was the Fleur Hermione liked, the Fleur she could handle.

"Please, be careful," Fleur begged.

"I will," Hermione vowed somberly. Fleur stepped forward and pulled the girl into a tight hug, "Off to class, Miss Granger. I'd give you a note, but I assume your reputation will get you by. I'm sorry about before."

"It's ok, we just need to stay calm and slow," Hermione mumbled into Fleur's shoulder. Fleur deposited a lingering kiss on Hermione's nose, "I know, Cherie, I know."

Hermione jogged down the front steps, smiling as the sunshine hit her skin. Fleur was an endless battle that was nearly completely luck. Like a six sided die. Hermione truly believed that it would be worth it in the end, one way or another. She crossed the lawn, heading towards the part of the forest the lesson was to be held in that day. They were studying tree's that stole positivity as a food source; Hermione was both fascinated and horrified to find that they grew on the grounds. She had just entered the tree line and could here her classmates' chattering in the clearing up ahead. She only made it a meter into the dusky canopy before she got her first warning, a scent: chocolate and coffee.

"Hello sweetie," A silky voice chimed from Hermione right. Hermione jumped at the sound and licked her eyes over to the tree's there. Sunshine was filtering through the leaves everywhere but in this particular spot it was brighter, like a solid spear. Standing in the spear, like a fallen angel, crimson hair ablaze with golden light, was Melody. "I thought McGonagall restricted you to the south woods," Hermione scowled, raising her mental shields as thrall washed over her. Hermione noted that the stronger the thrall the stronger the scent of chocolate and coffee grew; the two most have been linked. Perhaps all thralls had a pleasant scent and were a way to detect they were being used, like a gas leek.

"What the old crone doesn't know won't harm her," Melody laughed lightly, ethereally. "Can the same be said for me?" Hermione asked quietly, hand on her wand grip. Melody smiled sweetly but Hermione felt the force of the thrall double, it was so strong she felt like she was floating on a cloud of coffee and chocolate. "Still using your shields I see," She smirked, sashaying closer.

"Still trying to break them down," Hermione scowled.

"Well, I've often found that sex is considerably more fun when both parties participate," She laughed lightly. Hermione blushed, she would never get used to how open Veela were about intimate experiences.

"I'd hardly count that as consent," Hermione rebuked.

"Once the first step is taken the thrall is no longer necessary," Melody shrugged taking another step forward. Hermione copied, taking a step back so they remained at the same distance. "I'll take your word for it," Hermione hissed, if she could just keep stepping back she'd make it to the class. "Your missing out," Melody pouted, "As your Hufflepuff friend could tell you, it's glorious."

"Is he alive?" Hermione demanded.

"I don't know, I don't care," She shrugged, "He was hardly good enough to bother keeping tabs on."

"That's heartless," Hermione snapped.

"It is what it is," Melody smirked, unbothered by Hermione's accusations, "My interest is elsewhere now."

"So is mine," Hermione growled, "I'm dating someone."

"They say if she's single you have the whole world to compete with, if she's taken you only have to be better than one," Melody chuckled, still advancing. Hermione hit a tree and before she could move Melody was directly in front of her.

"I'd wager I'm better, the French are emotive but refined, they need more passion," She smirked, placing her hands on Hermione's hips, just as Fleur had not long before. "Though I'd stake you wouldn't know that anyway. Not by the way you blush whenever someone starts talking luridly," She smirked as Hermione tried to move out of her reach. "That's all right sweetie, I like it better that way," Melody ran a slim hand down Hermione's cheek, "That way when they leave they find no-one better so they always come back."

"You're egotistical, you know that?" Hermione snarled, reaching into her pocket for her wand. "It comes with the territory sweetie," Melody beamed, eyes sparking with desire as her hand on Hermione's hip trailed lower. Down past the end of her skirt and than slowly creeping up on the other side. "Stop," Hermione commanded. Melody frowned in frustration as Hermione felt the thrall ram against her mental shields. Desire momentarily raced through her, so strong her hips bucked out slightly, a move that was immediately reciprocated by the Veela pinning her. Hermione gritted her teeth and reinforced her shields, snatching her wand from her pocket and holding it under the Veela's chin.

"Back off," Hermione snarled.

"Alright sweetie, don't get your panties in a knot, that's my job," Melody smirked, removing her hand from Hermione's thigh and backing away slowly.

"Keep walking," Hermione ordered, leveling her wand at the Veela's heart.

"You're lucky I like a chase, sweetie," Melody smirked, blowing Hermione a kiss before she retreated into the shadows of the trees. Hermione didn't relax her posture until the last of the thrall had faded away. Even then she stayed on guard as she forced herself to walk calmly to where her class was.

It seemed almost strange to see the lesson proceeding as if nothing had happened. As if she hadn't nearly been carried off by a predatory Veela fifteen meters away. She probably should have screamed, but that would have led to a hell of a lot of questions she didn't want to answer. "Miss Granger," Professor Sprout greeted, "Where have you been?"

"I'm sorry Professor, I had a meeting with Professor Delacour," Hermione replied brightly. True to form, Sprout didn't ask for any proof and Hermione was safe to join Ron as he examined a tree wearing a somewhat dubious expression. "That's the wrong tree," Hermione smiled, leading him over to a more innocent tree with pretty pink flowers. Hermione pretended she couldn't feel the eyes on the back of her head, or the faint scent of chocolate and coffee. "Wow, it sure smells nice for a sinister plant," Ron laughed, "Chocolate and Coffee."

"Yeah, that scent is definitely sinister," Hermione nodded, though Ron had no idea just how dangerous it could be. Neither did Hermione really, not yet anyway.

_Another chapter for all of you readers, aren't I nice? The next chapter should have Fleur and Hermione's first 'date'. Any suggestions? Hope you enjoyed the chapter and please review-Lark _


	13. First Dance

_Thanks for following, sorry about the typos. In the last chapter 'licking' is actually 'flicking' and 'leek' is 'leak'. One of the 'yours' is meant to be 'you're' for which I am highly embarrassed to have published. I don't have a Beta so I apologize for any future mistakes as well. Hope you enjoy the chapter and please review-Lark _

Hermione was vaguely nervous as she rounded the seventh floor corridor to attend her private lesson. She had no intention of telling Fleur about her encounter with Melody, but that didn't mean Fleur wouldn't sense it. If she did Hermione was concerned the quarter Veela would loose control and attack the full blood. Something made her doubt that particular fight was one that Fleur could win, at least without receiving some serious damage herself. The blonde Veela was waiting for her outside the room of requirement, she was wearing a baby blue summer dress that hardly seemed battle ready.

"Bonjour, mon mignonne," Fleur smiled sweetly and Hermione relaxed a little. If Fleur hadn't noticed the foreign Veela's scent on her yet she probably wouldn't. "I am pleased you didn't come in uniform, it saves us time," Fleur nodded, admiring Hermione's ensemble with sparking azure eyes. Hermione fidgeted slightly under Fleur's gaze, she was yet to get used to someone looking at her like that; undressing her with their eyes. Hermione glanced down at herself, as if trying to remember what she was wearing; still the same faded jeans, simple shirt and worn out jacket. Funny, by the way Fleur was looking at her; she might as well have been naked.

"What are we doing?" Hermione frowned, shifting her weight nervously from foot to foot. "A surprise," Fleur smiled, eyes twinkling mischievously.

"What sort of surprise?" Hermione frowned, knowing Fleur it was as likely to be a pleasant surprise, as something only the Veela would perceive as amusing. "If I told you it wouldn't be a surprise, mon amour," Fleur chuckled, taking Hermione's hand and opening the door to the room of requirement. The room didn't provide a dueling space this time, rather a rough-hewn tunnel that faded away into darkness. "Do you trust me, ma chaton?" Fleur smiled, winking at her playfully. Hermione frowned slightly, Fleur was in an exceptionally good mood and that could mean a multitude of different things, good and bad in equal measure.

"Yes," Hermione decided, squeezing Fleur's fingers lightly.

"Then follow me," She smiled, leading Hermione along the rough tunnel.

"You're not going to try and seduce me in this dark tunnel are you?" Hermione joked, though there was a serious note behind her light voice.

"No, not tonight, mon amour, tonight, you have nothing to fear," Fleur promised calmly.

Hermione had noticed Fleur was usually in less control of herself when she was lusting. That meant Fleur had managed to vent her sexual tension enough to be in control around Hermione. What Fleur had done to vent was not something Hermione wanted to know about. She only hoped it had been consensual on Fleur's partners part. Hermione felt a thrill of anger rush through her system as she thought about the situation. It took her a moment to identify it, as jealously, she was jealous of whomever the Veela had used to vent her tension. Hermione moved closer to the Veela who wrapped an arm around the younger girl's waist and pulled her close. How ironic, Hermione was now suffering from the emotion she had previously reproached Fleur for acting on. She could hardly blame Fleur; it was Hermione who had refused to be an outlet in the first place.

Light could be seen ahead of them as they stepped out of the tunnel and Hermione laughed in her surprise. "We're in Hogsmead," She smiled.

"Not for long, mon amour, this is merely a stop so we can apparate," Fleur informed her, rubbing Hermione's side with her thumb, "Because you can't on the grounds."

"I know, it says so in Hogwarts: a history," Hermione smiled.

"A very interesting book," Fleur chuckled.

"You read it?" Hermione asked, vaguely surprise, no one else she had asked had bothered to read the admittedly lengthy tome.

"Of course, Cherie, once I knew you had, it was necessary," Fleur beamed, pulling her closer as they reached the edge of Hogsmead. Fleur spun Hermione to face her and raised a soft hand to the girl's cheek. "Let me guide you, mon amour, just don't let go." Fleur placed a tender kiss on her forehead that Hermione only had a moment to enjoy before they were moving.

Being squeezed through a tight rubber tube was far from a pleasant experience, but considering the person Hermione was being forced against was Fleur, she thought she could live with it. Hermione hadn't apparated many times and when the magic released her she leant heavily against Fleur, gasping for air. Fleur wrapped her arms around the younger witch and held her close, "I'm sorry, mon amour, that was probably a further distance than you are use to," Fleur apologized sweetly.

"It's ok," Hermione straightened, happy Fleur kept her arms in place, just as a safe guard. Hermione glanced around; she had no idea where they were. They were outside what appeared to be a castle, far smaller than Hogwarts and younger. It was beautiful, aged sandstone that was decorated with ivy that crawled up the walls like a ladder for faeries. Roses lined the footpaths and filled the early evening air with a gentle, floral scent.

"Where are we?" Hermione wondered out loud. She could hear classical music drifting out from one of the light soaked windows. It had a full, warm quality that could only be produced if the music was live. "Italy," Fleur replied smoothly, as if they had just taken a stroll to the local pub instead of travelled over three countries. "What are we doing here?" Hermione smiled, excited despite herself.

"That is the surprise, mon amour," Fleur winked and led her towards the entrance. They were greeted with a smile from a man Hermione could only describe as the stereotypical butler. Fleur led her past a ballroom where men and women wore elaborate dresses and danced as if time had not passed since the eighteen hundreds. Fleur led her away from them, up a winding staircase that shone golden under the light of the chandelier. It was quieter on the second floor, but Hermione could hear the sound of a second string quartet.

Fleur opened the door to a smaller room, bare except for a wooden floor and the musicians, tucked into one corner. Fleur wrapped her arms around Hermione from behind and tucked her nose into the girl's honey hair. "The first time I ever really saw you was at the Yule ball," Fleur murmured.

"You arranged this?" Hermione gaped.

"Of course, mon amour, I regretted not dancing with you that night," Fleur admitted, pulling the girl around, taking one of Hermione's hands and placing the other on the girl's waist. "I shall take the lead, no?" Fleur smirked.

"Are you such a domineering personality you even make the men follow?" Hermione joked, but Fleur smirk told her she had guessed right.

Hermione placed a hand on Fleur's shoulder and stepped closer, waiting anxiously for the Veela to make the first move. Though Hermione held no particular grudge against dancing, she hadn't exactly practiced it regularly either. For this matter she was happy Fleur had volunteered to take the lead. Fleur led her smoothly across the floor, smiling ethereally the whole time. "I feel like I should be in a gown," Hermione murmured.

"Mon amour, anything you wear is ball room worthy," Fleur murmured, pulling her closer, wrapping her arms around the girls waist as they swayed to the beat. "Thank you, Fleur, this is perfect," Hermione whispered against her shoulder.

"You deserve perfect, mon amour, you deserve fairy tale," Fleur murmured, pulling the girl closer and rested her chin against the gentle curls.

"I hope this works, I really do," Hermione whispered, her voice careful, fragile.

"It will, mon amour, I'm not letting you go," Fleur vowed.

"Not now, but the war is coming and-"

"'Ermione, for one night, only live in the present," Fleur suggested.

"I'm not sure if I can," Hermione frowned, eyes downcast.

"With me, mon amour, you can," Fleur smiled gently. Orbs of light were floating around them and Hermione grinned with childlike delight. "They are called fallen stars," Fleur whispered in her ear, "A French invention."

"It's perfect," Hermione repeated, she felt light, happier than she had in a long time. "It is not perfect, because it can not compare to you," Fleur complimented her poetically. "Do you ever tire of complimenting me?" Hermione asked with a small laugh.

"Do you ever get tired of hearing it?" Fleur smirked and when Hermione shook her head than Fleur grinned, "Than neither do I."

"Thank you," Hermione blushed, "I needed this."

"I know, mon amour," Fleur replied with a half smile as they swayed to the music, "So did I." They stayed like that as the stars drifted around them and it felt like time froze, it was perfect, no matter how you phrased it.

Fleur led her to a balcony that overlooked the entrance and wrapped her arms around the girl, holding her close. "Fleur, do you mind if we keep this quiet," Hermione asked shyly.

"If that is what you wish, mon amour," Fleur nodded, nuzzling the girl's neck.

"For now, just in case it goes bad, I wouldn't want anyone to worry," Hermione mused. "I would never purposely hurt you," Fleur vowed, frowning slightly.

"I'm more concerned about your family and their, ah, tribe," Hermione blushed.

"You will be fine," Fleur vowed and Hermione nodded, leaning back into her embrace. She wished she could freeze this Fleur, banish all her other facets and keep this once forever. She knew she couldn't, if she wanted this, as she was beginning to suspect she really did, she was going to have to accept the Veela for everything she was. Gentle and fierce, protective and friendly, sexual and cold. If she loved her, she would have to learn to love all of them. Tonight made her hope that the trials would all be worth it, just to belong in this fairy tale.

Hermione was entirely relaxed by the time they got back to Hogwarts; they had opted to walk back into the school the normal way. Hermione envied Fleur her Professors status, her freedoms. It was easy to forget your problems on a night like that, to live in the present. Particularly when Fleur had an arm tightly around her, when her cheeks hurt from smiling and all she could smell was vanilla and musk. Fleur stopped near the trees and took Hermione's hands, gazing deep into her eyes. "Thank you for giving me a chance, mon amour," Fleur smiled.

"Thank you for wanting one," Hermione blushed as Fleur leant down to kiss her. The gesture was soft, sweet and perfect, the perfect end to a perfect night. Except Veela's are cursed to never know the meaning of a perfect night.

"Well, isn't this cozy," A silky voice chuckled. Fleur broke the kiss but pulled Hermione to her so tightly it hurt. The intruder waltzed over calmly, a malicious smile playing on her lips. "Fleur, ma petite poupee," Melody grinned, "You left so quickly this afternoon."

"Afternoon?" Hermione frowned, she had an idea of where this was going, but she certainly did not like it. She wanted to kill the Veela before her for appearing and dampening her perfect night. "Hello honey, I didn't see you there," Melody smirked, stepping closer so that if she angered Fleur enough it would be easy for the French woman to attack her. "This afternoon your faithful lover came to me for help," Melody informed her gleefully.

"Be gone," Fleur growled.

"Ah, you haven't told your sweetheart?" Melody asked silkily, "What a shame!"

"Come on, 'ermione," Fleur scowled, trying to tug Hermione away.

"Shouldn't you tell her, Fleur," Melody simpered, "Don't you want to know, sweetie?"

"With her?" Hermione scowled, shooting Fleur a glare, she hoped she wasn't right.

"With me," Melody smirked, "She came to my tent begging for release. I'm sure she had noble intentions," Melody dismissed, "But she enjoyed every second of it."

"I'm sorry, mon amour, I needed to be sure I could keep control tonight," Fleur apologized, eyes clouded with embarrassment. "Why her, Fleur?" Hermione frowned, fixing her glare on the full-blooded Veela.

"She hoped she would be able sate me so I would not pursue you," Melody shrugged, examining her nails, as if bored by the conversation. "She underestimated the drive of a full Veela. At least you accomplished one of your aims, love," Melody smirked in Fleur's direction.

"Leave," Hermione scowled, channeling the anger she felt at the offending Veela.

"It's not the simple, sweetie," Melody cocked her head to the side as she watched Hermione. "All right, I'll simplify it for you. Leave or I'll curse you," Hermione threatened.

"No, no, not yet sweetheart, you should know," Melody smirked, "If a Veela is in a relationship with a human, the human is off limits to other Veela."

"Then you should leave," Fleur snarled, pulling Hermione to her.

"The rule stands until the Veela cheats," Melody interrupted, "As you did, when you came to my tent."

"We hadn't gone on the date at that point," Hermione hissed.

"No? But you had arranged it, shared your first kiss and she had declared her intentions," Melody chuckled, "Therefor it was disloyalty."

"That's bull shit," Hermione argued.

"That is Veela law, you are, my darling, fair game," Melody informed her silkily.

"I still have no interest," Hermione growled.

"It's not that simple, mon amour," Fleur murmured sadly in her ear, "If, by some circumstance, two Veela court the one person, they must be fair to each other."

"How do you mean?" Hermione frowned, shrinking into Fleur's arms, somewhat more scared of Melody now she wasn't so sure of Fleur's protection.

"Sharing sweetie," Melody snickered, "Alternate days, weeks, beds."

"Perhaps that is if the victim is mindless but I can block you, and I have no interest in you," Hermione shot back vehemently.

"I know, mon amour, but if she requests it she has the right to be the only Veela around you every second day, even if you do nothing."

"Why bother," Hermione growled in frustration, her wand gripped tightly in her hand. "Your control will slip, honey, and when it does I will be there to take full advantage," Melody smirked, eyes flicking up and down, examining Hermione unashamedly. "I can promise you, it won't," Hermione hissed.

"Your girlfriend is uptight, you may want to help her with that," Melody purred, eyes fixed on Fleur, "Or someone else will."

"Enough," Fleur snapped, her grip on Hermione's shoulder beginning to hurt. Melody moved closer, emerald eyes never leaving Fleur's azure irises as she laid pale hands on Hermione's shoulders. "Are you going to stop me, half breed?" Melody smirked; trailing her hands down Hermione's arms in what could only be taken as a challenge. She raised them again and placed them on Fleur's shoulders so Hermione was caught between them. "Or are you incapable in protecting your mate as well as satisfying her?" She challenged, rocking her hips against Hermione's with enough force so Fleur could tell what she was doing.

Hermione sensed the moment Fleur lost control, something about her hands, still holding Hermione's, gave her away. Hermione was shoved safely to the side as Fleur lunged for the Veela. Fleur's nails carved ruby furrows across Melody's collarbone as the full Veela snarled in rage and bodily threw Fleur backwards. It hit Hermione then and there that neither of these women were human and would do some serious damage to each other. Though Hermione would like to rip all the hair from Melody's head, one strand at a time, she couldn't bear to see Fleur hurt. Which she currently was as Melody had landed a savage kick to her ribs.

Hermione aimed her wand but couldn't get a clear shot on the red head so she made a snap decision and stunned Fleur. Melody pulled up short once she realized what had happened, a vicious grin on her face. "Leave her alone," Hermione panted, she was clutching her wand so tightly her nails were biting into her hand and drawing blood. "Are you going to stop me?" Melody smirked, standing before the frightened girl; she had a good four-inch height advantage. "With you frightening little stick?" Melody gripped Hermione's arm, preventing her from aiming or using her wand. A wave of thrall hit Hermione and she realized that Melody had been holding back on its strength. The Veela was so close, the scent was so strong, and Hermione thought she might pass out. Her legs gave out and she collapsed onto her knees. "Give in, Hermione," Melody smirked, "How long can you last anyway?"

"No," Hermione hissed.

"You cannot hope to hold against me," Melody scoffed; bringing her face to Hermione's, tracing Hermione's cheekbones with her lips, hot breath clouding Hermione's vision.

The connection drove Hermione insane; her shields wavered and snapped, leaving her gasping for breath. She wanted this woman, needed her more than oxygen. She would beg if she had to, give up everything for a moment with her, for a second feeling her touch. Melody grinned predatorily and lowered her lips to Hermione's, eyes fixed on the point over Hermione's shoulder where Fleur lay stunned. The kiss was so perfect, perfect like stars, stars…. dancing, vanilla, Fleur, Fleur was stunned, injured. Then whom was she kissing? Hermione's wand hung by her side, it reacted more to her subconscious than her will as a Bombarda curse blasted the ground apart and threw Hermione backwards. Hermione staggered to her feet and glared at the Veela.

"Leave," Hermione gasped, eyes murderous as she leveled her wand at Melody.

"All right sweetie, I got what I wanted for the night," She smirked, "I'll be seeing you." The Veela retreated into the dusk and Hermione snarled. She doubted she would ever be able to eat chocolate again; the taste lingering on her tongue was enough to make her sick. She quickly revived Fleur and helped her to her feet. "I'm so sorry, I thought you were going to be hurt," Hermione apologized.

"Never do that again," Fleur hissed, "Never put yourself in danger for me."

"You would for me," Hermione argued as she helped Fleur towards the castle.

"I'm sorry I was unfaithful, mon amour," Fleur murmured.

"I don't know how to feel, Fleur," Hermione admitted, "We will talk about it later."

"Oui," Fleur winced. Hermione hugged Fleur close, she had the strong feeling she would forgive this woman anything, as Fleur would for her. Maybe that's what true love is.

_The first date, I hope you all liked it. I couldn't decide where to take them so I decided to write my own dream date. I had to have it go awry at the end, but I let them have most of the night. Poor Hermione, she's starting to fall for Fleur but there are always complications. Suggestions loved, hope you enjoyed the chapter and please review-Lark_


	14. Forgive Me, Mon Amour

_I received a lot of reviews asking about Fleur's actions in the last chapter. Don't worry, I'll explain it in this chapter, there's a back-story. There was a problem with the upload so sorry about the late arrival. Thank you all so much for reviewing and please enjoy the chapter-Lark_

The fire was crackling merrily in the grate, sending a soft glow across the women siting before it. They sat, gazing at each other as the fire light painted ghosts in their eyes. Both were frowning and to an extent they each felt guilty, though for entirely different things. The silence was fragile, just like the calm mask the younger girl wore as she observed the older woman. "Mon amour, I'm so sorry," Fleur pleaded, breaking the quiet even as the fire released a plume of smoke. Hermione let the silence stretch out as she thought about how to respond.

"You _slept _with someone else, Fleur," Hermione murmured eventually.

"I'm sorry," Fleur begged.

"You said that," Hermione frowned.

"What do you want me to say, 'ermione" Fleur queried.

"I want to know why," Hermione whispered, calm face breaking as hurt flashed across her face. "I explained that, mon amour. I did it to protect you," Fleur insisted. "Really? Because that a pretty piss weak attempt at protecting someone," Hermione ground out, her voice frigid. She had tried to forgive Fleur, she really had, but by the time they reached the castle all that had been left was anger.

"'Ermione, do you have any idea what could have happened tonight if I hadn't?" Fleur asked incredulously.

"Shouldn't it have been my choice to find out?" Hermione shot back.

"I could have gone too far," Fleur begged her to understand.

"Melody will go too far," Hermione hissed, slightly hysterical.

"You can resist her," Fleur assured her calmly, though Hermione knew she was talking more to herself than to the Gryffindor.

"I can't Fleur, you know I can't, not for long," Hermione admittedly ashamedly, "You don't know what it's like." Fleur remained silent, not meeting the younger witch's eyes as she watched the fire. "Why her, Fleur? God, why her?" Hermione sighed. "I thought I could protect you and sate her, at least for a while," Fleur repeated, her eyes somewhat guarded. "You couldn't Fleur, surely you realized that," Hermione scowled.

"I was trying to help," Fleur frowned.

"By sleeping with someone else!" Hermione exclaimed, throwing her hands up, "Surely Elise would know a way to keep control. She stayed with a human for a time." Fleur grew quiet under Hermione's glare and swept her silvery hair back restlessly.

"'Ermione, I was going to ask Grandmother," Fleur sighed.

"Then changed your mind in favor of an afternoon fuck?" Hermione asked coldly. She felt betrayed, she had been starting to put her heart on the line and Fleur had already stepped on it, in stiletto heels. "Do you honestly think I would fall so low, 'ermione?" Fleur whispered, reaching a hand towards the girl but Hermione moved out of reach. "I think we've proved that point," Hermione growled.

"Ermione," Fleur seemed heartbroken as she reached out for the girl again.

"D-don't touch me," Hermione scowled, "God knows where those hands have been." She knew it was cold, knew how much it would hurt Fleur. Hermione didn't care, she hurt, an aching emotional hurt that made her want to curl up in someone's arms. Unfortunately the only person available was Fleur and she was the one causing the ache. "Thrall," Fleur hissed, azure eyes focusing on a point to the left of Hermione's shoulder. "What?" Hermione frowned.

"I was under the influence of thrall," Fleur forced out through gritted teeth.

"But you're a Veela," Hermione blinked, was Fleur lying? Something about the pain in those cobalt eyes told her otherwise.

"Ah ma chaton, if only it were that simple," Fleur laughed sadly, "Thrall works on everyone, just at varying degrees."

"So Melody used her thrall to lure you into her tent?" Hermione asked, unable to keep the doubt from her voice. "Oui, when I went to see Grandmother," Fleur nodded, a fierce blush in her cheeks. Hermione wasn't about to swallow the confession, her sense of betrayal needed proof. "Then why did you stay quiet when Melody taunted you?"

"In every society there is something that leads to such dishonor and embarrassment that you wouldn't admit to it under any circumstance," Fleur explained quietly.

"Falling to thrall is that thing?" Hermione gasped.

"Falling to a fellow Veela's thrall," Fleur corrected, eyes downcast, "I am greatly dishonored."

"Couldn't you resist her?" Hermione asked quietly, hoping she wouldn't injure Fleur's feelings too much with the questions. "No," Fleur shook her silvery mane, "The closer a Veela is to the person they are seducing the stronger the spell. If the person happens to be in love with the Veela, at that point in time or in the past, the effect is increased again," Fleur blushed deeply.

"You were involved with _her, _with melody?" Hermione asked, aghast.

"A long time ago, before the tri-wizard tournament," Fleur nodded, still clearly ashamed. "What- How?" Hermione frowned, forgetting to be angry.

"I was visiting the community, Grandmother was teaching me about the Veela culture," Fleur murmured as Hermione drew closer, placing a hand lightly over Fleur's. Not saying the older woman was forgiven, but that the younger woman was listening.

"I was naïve to the way of my own people, so when she began talking to me I took it in good faith," Fleur shivered, "Do you believe in love at first sight, 'ermione? I did." Hermione noted the emphasis on _did _and tightened her grip on Fleur's hand.

"I once told you that my version of slow was a lot faster than yours, as was the case with her," Fleur murmured, "On my last night at the camp I learnt what it felt like to be entirely under a Veela's thrall."

"I'm sorry, Fleur," Hermione murmured, shuffling closer to the Frenchwoman.

"It is our nature, mon amour," Fleur sighed, stroking the younger witch's hair.

"Why did she use her thrall on you again?" Hermione scowled, her hatred for the full-blooded Veela growing. "I was the only one who ever walked away from her, mon amour, it is not in a Veela's nature to take that lightly," Fleur sighed.

"You couldn't resist her, even now?" Hermione frowned.

"No, just as you would not be able to resist my thrall, now or ever," Fleur smiled sadly, kissing the younger witch lightly on the cheek. "I can resist Melody's," Hermione frowned.

"You could not stand against mine," Fleur dismissed.

"Try," Hermione decided, anything to lighten this heavy night.

"If you insist, mon amour," Fleur nodded, "Ready yourself."

Hermione calmed her mind and watched Fleur levelly as the Veela smiled at her familiarly. She noticed the scent first, vanilla and musk, like a hug from an old friend, it wrapped itself around her. Gentle, soft and comforting as it caressed her skin, pressed against her shields. Fleur tilted her head and the thrall closed closer, wrapping her up in a warm embrace. Her shields shattered, but she didn't care, she was so warm and at home; she could freeze now and die happy. The thrall seeped away and a small moan of complaint escaped Hermione's throat. It was met by a throaty chuckle, the sound vibrated just above her nose and Hermione tensed in confusion. She was wrapped in Fleur's arms, the blonde witch's pulse beating against her ear.

"I told you, mon amour," Fleur sighed, holding Hermione closer.

"You broke through so easily," Hermione blinked.

"I told you I had never used thrall on you before, I was not lying," Fleur smiled.

"I'm sorry Fleur, about Melody and yelling at you-"

"Shush, mon amour, you are more than I could ever hope for and I will take every obstacle that comes if I get to keep you," Fleur purred. Hermione could actually feel the vibrations through the witch's chest. Hermione curled around Fleur closer and laid her head beneath Fleur's chin. "Am I forgiven?" Fleur murmured huskily.

"I need time to think," Hermione sighed, wrapping her arms around Fleur's shoulders as the blonde reciprocated. "Mon amour, don't leave yourself vulnerable to Melody, she is dangerous. She'll sink her claws into you and never let go," Fleur warned.

"Than never let me go," Hermione suggested and Fleur chuckled throatily.

"If it were possible I never would," Fleur sighed contentedly. Hermione let peace settle over her, but one thing was nagging her consciousness. "Fleur, how did she find us, we could have gone back via the room of requirement," Hermione frowned.

"She can trace you, mon amour, her scent is on you, as is mine," Fleur frowned, "I should have sensed it on you but as it was I was also…. tainted."

"She could find me at any point?" Hermione shuddered.

"Only on my off days," Fleur joked weakly, but Hermione sensed her concern. "She wants to take you away from me, mon amour, and I will not let her," Fleur vowed. "I believe you," Hermione murmured, nuzzling Fleur's neck, "And I think I forgive you."

Hermione woke alone; she was in a chair by the Gryffindor fire, a blanket tucked around her shoulders. She felt cozy, the chair was warm, sun was shinning in her arms and all she could smell was Fleur. She noticed a piece of parchment resting by the hand and lifted it with a smile, expecting Fleur's usual poetic farewell. What she received was ice sliding into her stomach as she read the single sentence on the page. _It's an off day._

Hermione was edgy; she flinched at every sound and stuck close to Harry and Ron. Never quite touching them, she had seen how that circumstance could turn out and that had been with one of the more genial members of the Veela race. "Hermione, are you all right?" Ron asked, "You look like you're about to be attacked."

"I'm fine," Hermione lied with a chipper smile.

"We're going to Quidditch practice, why don't you come and watch?" Harry suggested warmly. "No, I have some work to do in the library," Hermione lied, waving them goodbye and fleeing away from the sunlight.

She found refuge in the great hall with a cup of tea; the scent of coffee in the space was threatening to make her sick. Luna drifted over and took a seat beside her, nibbling idly at a piece of toast. She held it the wrong way up so the jam faced down rather than up. "Why do you hold it like that?" Hermione frowned, unsure why it irked her.

"Why wouldn't you? This way you can taste the jam better," Luna smiled vaguely.

"Ok," Hermione replied, not really sure how to respond, which was the normal occurrence with the girl. "Your aura is different today," Luna informed her with a dreamy half smile. "How so?" Hermione prompted, the eccentric girl was providing a wonderful distraction from Hermione's worry. "You're happy, love I'd say," Luna remarked chirpily, "But it's a complicated love."

"Isn't it always?" Hermione smiled ruefully.

"Maybe, but this isn't conventional love, it was never destined to be," Luna mused, "It will do well for you Hermione, you are happy."

"Thank you?" Hermione frowned; she wasn't sure what she was meant to say.

"There's taint," Luna frowned, gazing at her toast as if it held the answer, "A sweet taint that sticks to you like honey. It has a scent."

"Chocolate and Coffee," Hermione nodded.

"I didn't think you could sense auras," Luna smiled brightly, blue eyes untroubled.

"I can't, I can sense Veela's," Hermione scowled.

"I highly doubt that," A silky voice laughed and Hermione was assaulted by a sweet scent. Heads turned, gasps were heard and boys drooled unashamedly as a Veela prowled down the corridor of tables. This was not a part Veela like Fleur, but a full blood that was making no attempt to control her thrall. This Veela had an air of authority about her that intimidated even Hermione. This Veela was Elise.

"Elise," Hermione blinked, Luna was also watching the Veela, with a dreamy interest that held no sign of worship. "Hello Hermione," Elise smirked, "We need to talk, follow me." This was definitely an order, not a request and Hermione sighed as she clambered to her feet. "If I'm not back in an hour, find Harry and Ron," She told Luna in an attempt at nonchalance.

"I will not keep her long," Elise promised, before turning and striding down the corridor, leaving Hermione to hurry and catch her. "It seems you have gotten yourself in quite a mess," Elise remarked, shooting Hermione a disapproving glance. "If you had merely given in to instinct in the first place than this would not have happened."

"Fleur would have gone to the camp at another point in time," Hermione scowled.

"To find Melody? I think not," Elise scoffed. It dawned on Hermione that Fleur had not told her Grandmother what had really happened. Considering how shameful Fleur had made it out to be that was hardly surprising. "I will not let you blame this situation on me," Hermione scowled.

"That is neither here nor there," Elise dismissed, "What is essential is that you choose quickly."

"Choose?" Hermione frowned, "Between Melody and Fleur?"

"Yes," Elise sighed in exasperation.

"Fleur," Hermione volunteered instantly.

"It is not that simple," Elise shook her head.

"What then? God damn it?" Hermione swore in frustration.

"Heaven knows what my granddaughter see's in you," Elise sniffed pompously.

"Explain why it isn't simple," Hermione scowled, ignoring the insult.

"There are two ways out of an arrangement such as yours, or rather one way out with two ways of reaching it," Elise explained calmly.

"I did not come here to be demeaned, tell me without the eloquence," Hermione insisted, earning herself another glare from the Veela.

"A period of six months must pass or," Elise's eyes sparkled with cruel amusement, "You can sleep with each pursuer and decide hence."

"You can't be serious," Hermione argued.

"It is tradition, love and considering those involved I wouldn't recommend the waiting option," Elise smirked, "My granddaughter may wait for your consent but Melody will not. How many times could you be taken advantage of in six months?"

"Stop," Hermione demanded, "How can you find this funny?"

"You have what many people dream of and yet want none of it," Elise smirked.

"I'd trade my problems to those people," Hermione scowled.

"Even if it meant losing Fleur?" Elise riddled.

"No," Hermione replied quietly.

"Than there is still hope for you," Elise nodded, probably the closest she got to expressing true approval. They were by the grand doors of the school and Elise stepped into the sunlight. "Until next we meet, Hermione." Hermione closed the door after the Veela and swept a hand back through her hair. Next time they met Hermione planned on bringing a baseball bat or some equally crude muggle invention. Hermione couldn't bear to see that smirking smile any longer than she had or she may have actually resorted to spell work to wipe it off the smug Veela's face.

Hermione was beginning to wonder if she might have escaped her Veela stalker for the day when she made the unwise decision to take a short cut behind a tapestry to her next class. She knew the instant she stepped into the narrow, deserted corridor that she had made a regrettable mistake. All it took was the sweet scent of coffee and chocolate to assure her she would not make it to her next class on time. "I was beginning to think you were avoiding me, sweetie," A husky voice chuckled as a hand shot out and pinned her to the wall. Emerald eyes sparkled with amusement as the Veela stepped closer, pinning Hermione with her hips so her hands were free to use. "I am avoiding you," Hermione hissed.

"You're doing a pretty poor job of it, hun," Melody smirked, placing her hands against Hermione's shoulders and pinning her fast to the wall. "Now we can have some fun."

_Hey guys, hope this chapter answered a few questions and redeemed Fleur a little. Sorry about the cliffhanger and the length, I had work today. Hope you all enjoyed the chapter and please review-Lark_


	15. Break My Heart With High Heeled Shoes

_Thanks for reviewing guys, especially to C.C and Passionate Romantic01 for helping me close the holes in the story. I just found out my story has been added to a c2, which is a first for me so that was rather exciting. Thank you everyone for reviewing and please enjoy-Lark_

"We have very different definitions of fun," Hermione scowled, shoving against the Veela's unyielding arms. "I'd be more than happy to teach you mine," She whispered huskily in Hermione ear. "I'm sure you'd change your mind."

"Get off me," Hermione snarled.

"Are you sure?" Melody smirked, emerald eyes twinkling with hidden intents. Hermione opened her mouth to snidely assure the Veela that she did indeed wish to be released. Before she could force out a single syllable she was assailed by a concentrated blast of thrall. "Nng," Hermione gasped, half way between her intended response and a moan of longing. "I didn't quite hear that, sweetie," Melody chuckled, hot breath clouding Hermione's thoughts and sending unwanted shivers down her spine. "Let go of m-" Hermione managed to string the sentence together but was unable to finish it. Melody had chosen the moment the young girl spoke as the perfect time to rock her hips against Hermione's, hard. "I didn't quite catch that," Melody chuckled, lips against Hermione's ear, "Having trouble stringing thoughts together?"

"Thrall," Hermione hissed vehemently as Melody's teeth tugged at her ear lobe playfully. "Poor dear, you thought you could resist it? Even Fleur bowed to her needs under its influence," Melody taunted, placing her hands on Hermione's skirt and squeezing lightly. Hermione gasped, her mind was screaming for her to run but her body was drunk on thrall. "Leave Fleur alone," Hermione growled before another wave of thrall wrapped itself around her; sending her nerves crazy.

"I don't want Fleur, sweetie," Melody laugh patronizingly, sliding a hand under Hermione's skirt, "At least no carnally." Melody dug her nails into the skin of Hermione's leg and the pain brought her lucidity. "You slept with her before," Hermione scowled.

"To make sure you were fair game," Melody laughed, lips teasing the sensitive point below Hermione's ear. "Why?" Hermione demanded even as Melody rocked her hips forward and Hermione lost concentration. No, this wasn't right, this wasn't the right person; she needed to block the thrall.

"It's not personal, sweetie, not really. Though you do make for interesting game," Melody smirked, drawing back to watch the panicking girl with amused eyes, "This is about Fleur and what's fair."

"Because she didn't bow?" Hermione snapped, gripping Melody's wrist to stop her hand climbing higher. "She seduced my favorite partner who has since not returned," Melody growled.

"W-what?" Hermione stuttered.

"Don't fret, romantic fool, your lover is not still with the man, but the insult stands," Melody scowled, "I am merely repaying the favor." The thrall wrapped itself tightly around Hermione as Melody's hand trailed up her shirt and lips found Hermione's with a fierce passion. "NO!" Hermione snarled, forcing the Veela back, panting with the effort it had taken to shake the thrall and with the shock of how close things had gotten. "Nobody's coming to save you, sweetie, you won't make it out of the corridor," Melody threatened, the predator side making an appearance as her eyes glinted and her hands were slightly clawed. "Fleur will come," Hermione retorted. "She wouldn't risk breaking tradition, hun," Melody laughed, a loud, cold, cruel sound that sent shivers down Hermione's spine. "What happens if she breaks tradition?" Hermione frowned, afraid to hear the answer

"The Veela is cast out of the tribe and the person who made them betray, because it is always a lover that causes the problem, sweetie," Melody informed her, licking her lips as she eyed the girl, "The person who made them betray is either given to the tribe or killed with the Veela watching."

"You forced her into this," Hermione snarled.

"Of course, and I'll benefit," Melody smirked, the thrall was pressing against Hermione's shields threateningly. "I'll choose her, no matter which way this ends, I'll choose her," Hermione vowed.

"Of course, sweetie, but Veela thrall and ownership is like old marriage, once consummated it can never be broken," Melody laughed, "You will sleep with me, one way or another and from then on you will never truly belong to Fleur."

"I won't, but if by some slight of hand I did, she wouldn't care," Hermione hissed.

"Could you be on guard the rest of your life, hun? If I so much as called for you with my thrall you would come," Melody laughed, "Betray your friends and family for me, betray your beliefs for one night."

"Why would you want that?" Hermione demanded, more than a little panicked.

"That particular outcome I don't overly desire, I'll make you an alternate offer," Melody smirked, hand creeping up Hermione's leg again.

"Choose me, leave Fleur and I vow to never use my thrall on you again, you can go on with your life, unless you wish to stay, of course," Melody snickered, hand trailing higher as Hermione gasped. "Why not just take me with thrall?" Hermione challenged.

"It is so much less fun and if you come willingly," Melody's smirk made Hermione think that had a double meaning, "It will crush poor Fleur's heart. Never anger a Veela, hun, we will make you regret ever loving."

"You're a bitch," Hermione hissed, meaning it more than she ever had in her life.

"Of course, sweetie, and you'll still come running," Melody laughed, "Think on it, sweetie, I'll be waiting." Hermione ran from the Veela unashamedly, nearly tripping on her robes as she fled. She was most certainly late for class.

_With Fleur_

"I am so frightened, maman," Fleur admitted, azure eyes swimming with tears.

"'Ermione is a smart girl, Fleur," Apolline smiled, "I am sure you'll be all right."

"Melody doesn't want 'Ermione, not really, she wants to destroy me," Fleur whispered. "I do not think even a Veela such as Melody would hold such a grudge for merely leaving her," Apolline frowned.

"Maman, I made a mistake when I was younger," Fleur frowned, cobalt eyes brimming with regret. "What did you do, Cherie?" Apolline asked with trepidation.

"I was angry, maman, at Grandmother, at Melody, I wanted to hurt her," Fleur murmured, clutching her sides and wishing she were holding Hermione.

"You are a Veela, mon amour, it is natural," Apolline replied cautiously.

"I seduced away her favorite partner, I think, I think she was in love with him," Fleur admitted, "I broke her thrall on him and he ran."

"Oh my," Apolline gasped, "Fleur!"

"I know maman, now she's after Hermione," Fleur fretted.

"Take the girl away, Fleur," Apolline frowned, "Hide her if you have to, but if you love her, take her away."

"She'll never leave," Fleur frowned.

"If she loves you, she will." Apolline murmured, squeezing her daughter's hand. The door on the far side of the room swung open, revealing a haggard McGonagall. "There's an emergency, my office," McGonagall informed her and swiftly turned tail. Fleur jumped to her feet, gripping her wand tightly; any emergency in this school seemed to involve Hermione. Without a backwards glance as Apolline she darted into the corridor.

_With Hermione_

Hermione was in the common room, gripping her sides in anxiety as she tried to think of a peaceful way out of her predicament. Harry and Ron sat either side of her; they hadn't asked what was wrong, for which she was grateful. They just stuck close to her, shooting her the occasional sideways glance. It was in this setting of silent support that McGonagall summoned them. They were silent as they navigated the familiar deserted corridors. These corridors held ghosts, both literally and metaphorically.

McGonagall was there to greet them, her face gaunt and her eyes hollow as she ushered them inside with a tone more suitable for funerals than discussions with students. Then again, in current times one could often be synonymous to the other. McGonagall was not alone in her office; Snape, Slughorn and Fleur were also there, each face as grim as the next. "What happened?" Harry asked, his voice quiet, yet full of an authority he hadn't always possessed. "We believe you three should vacate the school, for your own safety," Slughorn explained, moping sweat from his brow. "Why?" Hermione frowned, her mind operating with a cold clarity; something must have happened to the Order.

"We believe the Ministry has been infiltrated further than we believed," McGonagall informed them gravely. "The security is at risk," Fleur murmured, her eyes never leaving Hermione. "Why only us?" Hermione frowned.

"If we evacuate all the students there will be widespread panic, Voldemort is after Mr. Potter and because of your association Mr. Weasley and yourself are also at significant risk," Slughorn puffed, his beady eyes never settling in one place. The man was scared. "You shouldn't put our safety above others," Ron frowned, surprising them all with the contribution. "Are we expecting imminent attack?" Hermione gasped, remembering the teacher's whispering together anxiously all afternoon. "Perhaps not attack, but infiltration," McGonagall nodded slowly.

"We should stand and fight," Ron volunteered bravely.

"For what? _They're _still out there," Hermione fretted, the Horcruxes.

"Then we go after them," Harry suggested, green eyes serious.

"I'm afraid at present that is too dangerous," McGonagall shook her head. "We believe that as the war has just started Voldemort will have increased security on all his vulnerabilities," McGonagall sighed, "As such, we believe it is a better strategy to wait."

"Wait?" Hermione demanded, "People will die!"

"People will die anyway, Miss. Granger," McGonagall informed her, unusually blunt. "Fine, you want us to run," Harry summarized in a tone that clearly said he was not pleased with this, "Where? The Death Eaters will be looking for us."

"We haven't decided that yet," McGonagall frowned.

"So this meeting is just a 'heads up' that we're going to have to run?" Hermione scowled. Sensible as she was, she was a Gryffindor, running to not sit well with her philosophy or her spirit.

"Exactly," Fleur nodded, azure eyes intense as they watched Hermione's every move, as if she could protect the girl by simply watching her. "What makes you think we'll go along with it?" Harry asked tersely.

"If it comes to it, Mr. Potter, I will stun you if that is what it takes," McGonagall vowed. "So what now?" Ron asked, biting his thumb to curb his anxiety.

"We will make our decisions about where to send you three," McGonagall mused, "It will most likely not be together."

"What!" They exclaimed at the same time.

"We have already decided you would be a flight risk if hidden together," Slughorn winced. "We aren't children," Harry scowled, his anger coming out to play. Hermione placed a hand in his to calm him, a gesture that was not missed by Fleur.

"We will tell you the locations by morning, upon which you will be moved to them," McGonagall informed them firmly, both a dismissal and a warning.

"Come on," Hermione tugged the boys along, "We need to talk."

"No," Harry growled, pausing in his pacing. They had retreated to the room of requirement so they would be free to argue and shout without waking anyone. "We can't just go off Harry, we don't have a plan," Hermione frowned.

"We might never," Ron volunteered.

"Wouldn't we be better off waiting and receiving support from the Order?" Hermione stressed.

"They would know less than us," Harry scowled.

"Can we be sure?" Ron queried, clearly taking the indecisive side.

"No, of course we can't," Hermione reproached.

"Teachers don't know everything," Harry scowled.

"Neither do we," Hermione seethed. Their argument was interrupted by a soft cough from by the door. They all turned at once to find a blonde Veela leaning against the wall, posture casual but Hermione could see the tension in Fleur's eyes. "If I could borrow 'ermione?" Fleur requested. Hermione shot Harry a warning glare before striding over to Fleur and following her outside. Only when they were alone did she slip her hand into the Veela's.

"When I heard about the infiltration, I was scared," Fleur murmured, drawing the girl to her. "I'm sure your family will be all right," Hermione assured her with an attempt at a smile. Fleur chuckled sadly, "I was scared for you, mon amour."

"I'll be fine," Hermione lied.

"Mon amour, don't go," Fleur asked suddenly, azure eyes brimming with fear and concern. "I have to, Fleur," Hermione shook her head.

"So you will run, if you have the chance?" Fleur frowned.

"Yes," Hermione whispered.

"But you could die!" Fleur implored, eyes slightly frantic.

"Couldn't we all anyway?" Hermione riddled.

"Do not talk like that, 'ermione," Fleur requested miserably.

"We have to consider it, Fleur," Hermione smiled sadly, fighting back an uncharacteristic flood of tears. "Mon amour, don't run, please, for me," Fleur begged. "I'm sorry," Hermione murmured sincerely.

"You choose them over your safety, them over me?" Fleur asked; sounding hurt.

"I am loyal to my friends, Fleur," Hermione sighed.

"What about me, mon amour? If you die," Fleur shuddered, reaching up to caress Hermione's cheek. "They will die without me," Hermione reasoned, she knew it was true. "Then let me come," Fleur frowned.

"I'm sorry, Fleur, you can't," Hermione squeezed the older woman's hand.

"'Ermione, if you die," Fleur drew the girl close, "I couldn't bear it."

"This isn't something I can back away from," Hermione murmured, embracing the Veela. "Please, stay with me," Fleur begged.

"I can't," Hermione denied sadly.

"Mon amour," Fleur murmured, cobalt eyes miserable, "Please, them or me."

"I'm so sorry Fleur," Hermione apologized, fighting back tears and talking around a knot in her throat. She backed away from the witch as she shook her head, "I'm sorry, them."

_With Fleur_

Fleur watched the girl leave, taking half the Veela's heart with her. Fleur could feel her heart ripping in two with each step the girl took away from her. She shuddered and leant against the wall, tears leaking from her closed eyes. She knew it was unreasonable for her to expect Hermione to choose her over the boys, but it hurt. She would be forced to sit back and worry about the girl, never knowing if she was alive, or injured. "You really do love the girl," A voice sighed. Elise sat down beside her Granddaughter and rested her head against the girl's. "Of course," Fleur mumbled.

"Then I have a proposition."

_With Hermione _

No one had slept that night which led to a tense walk back to McGonagall office. Harry was silent and stony, speaking to neither her nor Ron. Hermione felt like an emotional wreck, every step she had taken from Fleur felt like a bullet to the chest. She had kept walking though, because that is what was right. McGonagall caught on to the attitude quickly as her grim face turned even more somber. "I am afraid to say we have decided to split you up," McGonagall informed them by way of greeting. She had never been one to sugar coat a decisions. "Harry, you will be doing to Grimmuld place, Remus will look after you," McGonagall informed him. Hermione felt bad for the shabby werewolf, Harry wasn't going to be fun to be around. McGonagall led harry to the fireplace, leaving no time for teary farewells or planning. Harry was gone before what was happening really sunk in, they were being separated, indefinitely.

Hermione understood the logic of sending Harry off first, that way he wouldn't know where to find she or Ron. It wouldn't matter, they would find each other, they always did. "Ronald, you will be staying with your brother Charlie in Romania, we believe Voldemort is yet to extend that far," McGonagall seemed slightly more relaxed now Harry had left. Hermione dashed forth to hug Ron before he left, "We'll find each other," She whispered before pulling back and watching him vanish in flames. She felt lonely and outmatched.

"Miss Granger," McGonagall sighed sympathetically, "I understand you have had a Veela problem."

"Yes, Professor," Hermione nodded, wondering why she brought this up now.

"The Veela's will be returning to their homeland as of dusk tonight," McGonagall informed her briskly. "Not Fleur?" Hermione felt her stomach drop at the thought of losing Fleur all together. She noticed Fleur was not in the room this time; she hoped she hadn't hurt her too badly. "Fleur too," McGonagall nodded.

"No," Hermione murmured.

"Yes and Miss Granger, so will you. The Veela's have extended their protection to you. There magic is old and powerful, you will be returning with them." Hermione gaped at the older woman. Surely she was joking? Hermione would rather risk the death eaters.

_This was my attempt at an emotional drama. I decided to steer the story towards the war and away from Hogwarts, though I feel bad for splitting them up. I also felt bad about making Hermione choose Harry and Ron over Fleur. Hope you enjoyed and please review-Lark_


	16. Castle On A Cloud

_Thank you for all the reviews guys! 16 on one chapter thank you all. Sadly. Unfortunately after this chapter updates may drop to twice a week as I return to school tomorrow. With the help of our favorite Veela of course. I hope you all enjoy the chapter-Lark_

_With Fleur_

Fleur had been taken off guard when Elise offered her protection to Hermione. She had wondered if the Veela had an ulterior motive; Fleur suspected she might have had a hand in Hermione's Veela problem. Any feeling of foreboding was, however, overruled by the value of the offer. Full blooded Veela's had access to ancient magic that could barely be touched by modern spell work. Fleur would rather have to protect Hermione from Melody than the Death Eater equivalent of the Spanish Armada. She had accepted Elise's offer quickly, never really considering how negative Hermione's reaction would be.

Fleur decided that it was worth risking Hermione's reaction to keep her safe. Surely she could not be furious so long as her friend's were protected as well? Fleur still decided it would be best not to openly state her involvement in making the plan to split up the trio. Convincing McGonagall had been easier than expected, it seemed she was well aware of the ancient magic.

Fleur had, however, underestimated the strength of Hermione's friendship with the two Gryffindors and was not prepared when her young love dug her heels in.

_With Hermione_

"No," Hermione shook her head, "I don't agree to separating us and I will not agree to leave with them."

"Miss Granger, you will be far safer with them," McGonagall sighed, she had been expecting a fight. "Safer?" Hermione scoffed.

"'Ermione," Fleur interceded, trying to placate the riled up teen.

"Did you have a hand in this?" Hermione scowled.

"Not in separating you," Fleur argued quietly.

"If the Veela's can provide such comprehensive protection, why not send the guys there too?" Hermione scowled.

"We fear they may, ah, fall prey to, ah," Slughorn mumbled awkwardly.

"And I won't?" Hermione scowled, too irritated to feel embarrassed.

"We believe that as you are engaged in a stalemate such as yours that the other Veela are unlikely to bother you. We trust Fleur to look after you and as such the benefits outweigh the disadvantages," McGonagall reasoned.

"And I don't get a say in this?" Hermione seethed.

"No, I'm afraid you don't," McGonagall replied shortly.

"Is this a bad time?" An amused voice asked from the doorway. Elise was accompanied by Melody and a Veela Hermione didn't know. Slughorn's eyes had unfocused slightly and he was fiddling with the edge of his jacket.

"An immensely bad time," Hermione scowled, glaring first at Melody then at Elise.

"I suggest you don't glare like that, child, I do not take well to insolence," Elise smirked. "Many Veela would not react pleasantly to you glaring at their alpha," Melody chuckled. Of course Elise was alpha, the job couldn't be given to a less malicious woman, could it? "The answer is no," Hermione repeated, she knew what she was saying was hurting Fleur, but if she was swept into the night be the Veela she doubted the boys' ability to find her.

"It wasn't a question," Melody shrugged.

"You'll have to take me kicking and screaming," Hermione growled, frustrated with people trying to make her decisions for her. "I'll take you screaming," Melody smirked; she didn't seem to care that two Professors and the Headmaster were present. "I wasn't asking," Hermione snarled.

"Neither was I," Melody laughed, forcing McGonagall to clear her throat pointedly. "You're banishing me to this?" Hermione demanded.

"For the time being," McGonagall nodded.

"Come on, Cherie," Fleur murmured, taking her hand. Hermione shot McGonagall a look of loathing over her shoulder before allowing Fleur to drag her away. Away from Hogwarts and further away from being able to help Ron and Harry.

Hermione didn't know where she was but she doubted anyone human had stepped foot beneath these dusky trees for centuries. "Where are we?" Hermione gaped, forgetting to be angry as she marveled at the forest. The magical secrets that could be stored within these woods rendered her speechless. She could feel the magic pulse through the air, like the warm breath of a gigantic monster. "Czechoslovakia," Fleur murmured, pulling Hermione to her.

"Why did you take me here, Fleur?" Hermione murmured.

"To keep you safe," Fleur murmured, breathing in Hermione's fresh scent.

"I have to keep _them _safe, Fleur," Hermione sighed, leaning back into the Veela's arms. She felt tired, so very tired; all the worry and tension was wearing her energy away. "It's the magic, mon amour, it saps the strength of mortals," Fleur explained as the girl leant against her arm.

"Come with me," Fleur murmured against Hermione's ear and led her through the trees. The other Veelas had vanished, not that Hermione minded.

The further they walked the stronger the thrum of magic became, though the lethargy began to fade. "Fleur, I need to find the others," Hermione frowned, it was hard to concentrate with the magical pulse thudding through her chest so hard it was disrupting her heart beat. "They are safe, mon amour," Fleur assured her as she led Hermione through the thinning trees. "Oh my god," Hermione gasped as they emerged past the tree line. "This has been the home of the Veela's for centuries," Fleur smiled at Hermione's look of awe.

"Can't muggles see it?" Hermione frowned.

"Of course not," Fleur laughed. They were standing on the top rung of an ancient city built into the side of a mountain. Forest stretched out far below them, creeping into the narrow alleys. Tree's and vines clung to buildings so it appeared as if the city had sprung from the forest. Moss lined the paths and the air was filled with the sweet scent caused by mingling thralls.

"It's gorgeous," Hermione gaped.

"You are honored to be here, 'ermione, very few humans have seen this city," Fleur smiled. "How many Veelas are here?" Hermione gaped, trying to count the dwellings; it was impossible, half of which seemed to have collapsed under the strain of the greenery. "Not as many as you would think," Fleur smiled, "Most Veela's are like me and have never been here."

"Why have you then?" Hermione queried, fighting a battle between justified anger and curiosity and awe. Curiosity and awe were currently winning. "My Grandmother is the current Alpha, as such I have certain rights, even as a half breed," Fleur chuckled.

"Is that why I'm here?" Hermione asked; Fleur seemed to sense the danger in the question. It could lead to some difficult questions about how it had been arranged for Hermione to be held within the city.

"Voldemort dislikes magical creatures such as Veela nearly as much as muggle borns. We have magic that could threaten his campaign and as such he seeks to destroy us. Grandmother believes Harry, Ron and you are our best shot at defeating him. As such she believes you need to be protected," Fleur explained.

"She's helping me," Hermione repeated slowly, "Because she thinks I can help you?"

"Yes," Fleur sighed, "Veelas are not an overly generous race."

"You seem to be," Hermione murmured.

"That is because I love you, mon amour," Fleur smiled, pulling Hermione close. Hermione wrapped her arms around Fleur's waist and leant her head against her chest. She didn't know what to do, she could try to find the guys but she didn't know if this city had any way of communicating with the outside world. Not to mention that however gorgeous the city was, she couldn't risk exploring it alone. Not with so many Veelas prowling around.

"Fleur, what are we going to do on your off days?" Hermione murmured, mind running back to the problems closer to home. "I'm not sure yet," Fleur admitted, taking Hermione's hand and leading her down a moss covered path. Hermione spied a pair of Veelas further along the path, chattering away in a language Hermione didn't recognise.

Fleur led Hermione down to a small terrace that led into a small house that looked out over the sea like forest. "This is my home while I stay here," Fleur smiled. She seemed lighter somehow, more generous with her smiles. Hermione liked this Fleur, she didn't seem dangerous in the least, only warm and happy.

The villa was small but cozy, a simple three rooms with a door leading to the bedroom from the living room. "I think it would be safer for you to stay with me," Fleur murmured, azure eyes burning with intensity. "Are you sure that's safe?" Hermione frowned, watching the shadows in Fleur's eyes closely.

"Safer with me than Melody," Fleur reasoned. Fleur opened the door to the bedroom revealing a large white linen bed. "Fleur," Hermione murmured slowly.

"I'm not trying to seduce you," Fleur smiled, "No more than usual anyway."

"Don't be ridicules," Hermione cracked a smile.

"Mon amour, I know you don't want to be stuck here, but it isn't forever," Fleur half smiled. Trying not to reveal how much the though of the girl leaving hurt. "Nothing is forever, Fleur," Hermione sighed.

"It can be," Fleur disagreed, leaning down and capturing Hermione's lips.

Fleur pulled Hermione as close as she could manage as she sucked gently on the girl's lower lip. Teasing it with a swift tongue until Hermione pulled back. "I understand why you chose them," Fleur murmured.

"I had to, it isn't about just them, or me. It's about all the muggleborns, we can't let Voldemort cast us out," Hermione vowed.

"Hermione, I have something to ask you," Fleur smiled, tucking a lock of golden brown hair behind Hermione's ear. "Be mine."

"Fleur, I-"

"I don't want to own you, 'ermione, though you own me," Fleur sighed, "But I want you to be faithful, as will I, I want to see you every day. I want to be able to hold you in my arms and make you smile like no one else can."

"Are you asking me to be your girlfriend?" Hermione blinked.

"No," Fleur shook her head and smiled slightly, caressing the girl's face lovingly, "I'm asking you to be my soul mate."

"I don't think you can ask someone to be your soul mate," Hermione murmured.

"Because you don't really have to mon amour," Fleur smiled, tucking the girl under her chin. The embrace felt so right, so perfect Hermione thought Fleur might have had a point. When she left, because she knew the day would come, she knew it would tear her heart in half.

"Hermione, it is important you understand that you are safe here," Elise intoned.

"Because you need me?" Hermione frowned.

"Yes," Elise replied, her lip curling.

"What of Melody?" Hermione scowled.

"I have requested she not use her thrall on you," Elise shrugged, "More than that I can not guarantee."

"You call that safe?" Hermione demanded, wishing Fleur had been in the room. Elise had asked to see her alone and apparently here Elise's word was law. "She will not kill you, nor harm you badly," Elise reasoned.

"I was speaking about mental trauma," Hermione hissed.

"I doubt you would find it traumatic child, if no thrall is involved it would be consensual," Elise frowned, clearly becoming bored with the conversation.

"What about rape?" Hermione asked unflinchingly.

"Only a Veela without dignity would stoop so low," Elise retorted coolly.

"So unless I temporarily lose sanity I am safe?" Hermione asked slowly.

"Yes," Elise nodded.

"Then thank you," Hermione replied sincerely.

"We need to win this war," Elise stressed.

"Not as much as I do," Hermione replied seriously, taking her leave, her head held high. She didn't know how she could dwell on personal problems, not with war so close on the horizon.

Hermione's legs were hanging over the edge of a terrace with Fleur's on either side of her. Fleur's arms were wrapped around her from behind and she could feel the Veela's breath against her hair. "I would love to come back here, after the war," Hermione admitted, gazing out at the softly setting sun.

"You would be welcomed," Fleur promised.

"Are we together now, officially?" Hermione asked unexpectedly.

"I have been yours for months, mon amour, but yes. The other Veela are aware we are together, only Melody may be a risk," Fleur explained.

"What about the others on the outside?" Hermione sighed.

"That decision is yours, mon amour," Fleur smiled.

"I think we can tell people," Hermione nodded slowly, "I doubt it would be an issue at a time like this."

"Than I would be delighted to publically be in a relationship with you," Fleur smiled brightly, hugging Hermione closer. "You could become a target," Hermione warned.

"I already am, mon amour, but that doesn't matter, as long as you'll have me."

Fleur was showering and Hermione had retreated to the terrace to escape the steam. The night air cleared her head but not the jumble of emotions. She felt happy and warm, she knew it probably wasn't a good idea to become so attached to Fleur at a time like this, but it wasn't a choice. Beneath the happiness was a sense that she had betrayed the guys somehow.

Both by leaving and by allowing herself to feel _happy _at a time like this. A cool breeze brought with it the sound of wing beats as an owl crossed in front of the moon. It swooped down and landed on her shoulder. Hedwig. Hermione quickly untied the letter and sent a glance behind her before opening it. It contained a few lines in Harry's familiar scrawl. _Be ready; come to Tottenham Court tomorrow at sundown. If you can't escape, we'll find you. Be ready._

Hermione didn't even know what ready meant anymore.

_This chapter was a little more emotional; I'm working towards Hermione falling in love with Fleur. I promise it will happen. I'm not sure how I went with the emotional scenes so feedback is loved. Thanks for reading -Lark_


	17. I Love You

_Sorry for the delay guys. I have a lot of work to do; classes have really jump started this year. I have good news and bad news. The bad news: this is the last chapter. The good news: I am willing to write a sequel if you guys are interested. Thank you all for keeping watch and I hope you enjoy-Lark_

Hermione was fretting, no, that sounded too light, she was stressing, worrying her lip with her teeth and wringing her hands. She could hardly tell Fleur to expect the boys, nor could she not tell her. Would they even be able to find her? This city wasn't normal, even for a magical settlement. She placed her hand in her pocket, just to feel the reassuring shape of her wand. Even with it, around all these Veela that had magic as old as time in their blood, she felt mundane.

Clearly Harry and Ron had already made contact, which left Hermione to be collected. She was vaguely surprised the two had managed to take initiative and contact one another secretly as well as formulating a plan. No doubt it would have been easier for them than her. Could they really find her, out here in the middle of nowhere? Would they even consider that she might be apart from the wizarding world?

Soft steps crossed the stonework as warm arms wrapped around her shoulders protectively. "You absolutely reek of Fleur," A silky voice sneered and Hermione shivered, shying away from the touch. She didn't need to see the owner of the arms to know it was Melody. "I'm fine with that," Hermione sniffed.

"Really?" She chuckled, "It's like a dog marking their territory, so unsavory"

"Isn't that what you're doing?" Hermione counted, gagging beneath the reek of chocolate and coffee. "Unsavory for you, I am indifferent," She smirked, breath drenching Hermione's hair. "The answer is never going to change," Hermione snapped.

"Oh, I think it will," Melody smirked, hand creeping around Hermione's waist and into her pocket. The pocket she had hastily shoved the letter in when she had heard footsteps. Melody held it up so Hermione could easily read Harry's scrawl, even in the moonlight.

"I though I saw an owl," She chuckled, "Already running from our hospitality?"

"I didn't send the letter," Hermione retorted.

"But you didn't send a refusal either," Melody snickered.

"Maybe not," Hermione shrugged.

"You can't get out," Melody informed her in a bored tone, releasing her shoulders and sliding down next to the young witch. "How do you mean? Hermione frowned, but her stomach felt like a huge weight had been dropped into its center. "The magic prevents you leaving without a Veela's permission," Melody informed her slyly. Hermione glanced over her shoulder towards where Fleur was still in the bathroom. "No such luck, sweetie," Melody laughed, "It has to be a full Veela, why do you think Fleur had to wait for Elise to offer you protection?"

"What do you want, Melody?" Hermione demanded.

"I wouldn't mind you out of those clothes, a few candles and as many uninterrupted hours as possible," She murmured, lips at Hermione's ear.

"Do you ever tire of taunting me?" Hermione hissed, leaning away.

"Not until you give in," She sighed, "But back to the point. I have plenty of time to think about all the ways I would screw you."

"The point?" Hermione scowled, wishing to slap the Veela beside her. The full-blooded Veela beside her…. damn. "You can get me out," Hermione murmured as it dawned on her. "Ten points to Gryffindor," Melody smirked.

"What would you want in return?" Hermione asked reluctantly.

"I want to break Fleur's heart," She grinned, a cruel, impish expression that managed to make her look beautiful in a nightmarish way. "In return you'd get me out of here?" Hermione frowned.

"In return," Melody grinned, shuffling closer and breathing down Hermione's neck and placing a hand on her leg. "I would get you outside the wards, bring your annoying little friends here and you can all leave happy."

"In return for breaking Fleur's heart?" Hermione sighed, sickened that she was considering it.

"Exactly, honey," Melody snickered, lips latching onto Hermione's throat.

"Stop," Hermione ordered, pushing the woman away, "I'm not going to sleep with you, even for freedom."

"Though I'm sure you'd enjoy it if you had the chance," Melody sighed in mock disappointment, "I am not going to stoop so low as to bargain for sex, I have no need for such pettiness," She scoffed.

"What then?" Hermione frowned.

"One, simple, heated kiss," She smirked, "Where Fleur will see but it won't look set up."

"You want it to appear as if I changed my mind," Hermione gaped.

"Of course, surely it's worth it?" Melody asked smugly. Hermione hesitated, looking out over the forest. "You wouldn't choose Fleur over your friends would you?"

"No," Hermione replied so softly it was almost incomprehensible.

"Then do we have a deal?" Melody smirked.

"I-yes," Hermione whispered, shame staining her cheeks red.

"Brilliant, you chose well sweetie," Melody laughed, placing a kiss on Hermione's temple, "I'll be seeing you." Melody vanished into the shadows and Hermione puffed out her cheeks. What was she doing?

"Mon amour, why are you still out here?" Fleur's gentle voice drifted out to her from inside the villa. "I was thinking," Hermione called back, climbing to her feet. Her legs were numb and her cheeks were cold from the breeze that had picked up since the sun properly set. "The war won't end without you," Fleur reminded her carefully, watching the girl as she entered the villa. Ghosts were flying in her eyes and she was drumming her fingers against her leg, a nervous tick Fleur had noted. "I need to be out there," Hermione frowned.

"You will be, just not yet," Fleur smiled gently. Taking a seat on the small couch and gesturing for Hermione to do the same. Hermione sunk down beside Fleur, leaning her head against the blonde's shoulder. "I need to be out there, Fleur," Hermione sighed.

"Why you, 'ermione?" Fleur asked; sounding physically pained.

"Because I have to be," Hermione replied, she knew it made no sense, but the real reasons were too complicated. So many loyalties tied up in every aspect of society. Fleur opened her mouth to argue but Hermione stopped her.

"Please, just for tonight, can we just stay like this and not talk?" Hermione asked, "Like we did back at Hogwarts?"

"Of course, mon amour," Fleur smiled, wrapping her arms around Hermione. Fleur's scent was more welcome than Melody's. Hermione didn't know if, when the time came, she would even be able to walk away from Fleur. It would be like trying the tear her heart in two and expecting no pain.

Hermione was on her own; near the main square, she had told Fleur she was going for a walk. Fleur had allowed her to leave; she was still half asleep. Hermione was surprised she could think straight, she had fallen asleep in Fleur's arms and was still drunk on her scent. She was tense and the stress gave her clarity. She was expecting Melody to accost her at some point today.

She still wasn't sure if this was right, but she needed to be back out in the world. Even if that meant being without Fleur. "Hello, sweetheart!" A cheery voice called as Melody bounded towards her. Hermione had never seen her so happy; she must have had a fun night last night. Hermione hoped it had been consensual.

"You're awfully chipper," Hermione grumbled.

"I have reason to be," She laughed, "I contacted your little friends, they don't seem to like me."

"Wonder why," Hermione muttered darkly.

"They will be in the forest by midday" Melody ignored her, "I will take you there, as soon as you hold up your end of the bargain."

"When?" Hermione demanded.

"Fleur will come looking for you," Melody shrugged, "I will follow until that point. When I see her I will come to you."

"Fine," Hermione forced out, turning away. Melody caught her arm, bringing their faces close together as she grinned, cherry lips pulling back in a grin. "Make it a kiss your parents would be ashamed to see."

"It will be what it is," Hermione sneered.

"I await the moment eagerly."

Hermione didn't have to wait long for Fleur to come searching for her, she spotted Fleur before Melody so she had a moment to steel herself. The red head was approaching her far too quickly though, a smug grin on her face. Melody hooked her arm around Hermione's waist and lowered her head, not all the way. Hermione had to take the last step. "Freedom and duty, sweetie, for one kiss," Melody smirked, breath dampening Hermione's lips, "Your friends are in the forest." Hermione took in a deep breath and closed the gap. Kissing Melody was not like kissing Fleur.

Melody's lips were fuller, she was surprisingly less aggressive, but the strongest difference was that Hermione didn't want this. Melody pulled her closer and Hermione had no choice but to comply as Hermione opened her lips to allow Melody access. She was drunk, her head swimming as she felt Melody's nails against her cheek.

Hermione pulled back slowly, though Melody didn't release her face, her lips still perfect, not even slightly kiss swollen. "Perfect," Melody purred, "She looks heart broken."

Guilt flooded Hermione's heart as she turned around to see Fleur standing there, her azure eyes swimming with tears, mouth open in shock. Hermione could practically feel the pain radiating off her. "Come, I will take you to your friends," Melody smirked. "Not yet," Hermione shook her head, her heart breaking.

"I won't take you if its not now," Melody scowled, "Your protection's revoked, you're game for all and any Veela."

"If the protection's gone I can leave, point me in the right direction," Hermione demanded. "There," Melody pointed along the cliff line, still scowling, "Where are you going?"

"To Fleur," Hermione retorted.

"You will not ruin this," Melody growled, "If you don't go now you could miss them, or the Veela could find them."

"I'll take that risk," Hermione snapped.

"For a fling?" Melody snarled.

"No, for love," Hermione replied and left the highly irate Veela alone in the square.

Hermione found Fleur on the ridge where she had first seen the city, where Fleur had told her she loved her with that gentle expression on her face. "Fleur," Hermione called, her voice cracked half way through the name. Fleur glanced at her, her expression unreadable, "Please Fleur," Hermione begged.

"Why?" Fleur murmured, "What did I do?"

"Nothing," Hermione replied, crouching beside her, "God Fleur, nothing."

"Then why?" Fleur demanded; voice strained.

"She offered to get me out of here," Hermione whispered.

"You don't have protection anymore?" Fleur guessed, her breath hitching.

"No," Hermione murmured.

"Are Harry and Ron here?" Fleur asked quietly.

"Yes," She murmured.

"You want to leave? You were willing to kiss Melody to go and fight?" Fleur whispered. "I have to do this," Hermione breathed, speaking past the increasing lump in her throat. "Do you have any idea what the thought of you, out there, will do to me?" Fleur demanded, "Mon amour, I can forgive you for kissing Melody, though it hurt. The thought of you, out there, facing death eaters," She shuddered, "I won't know if you're hurt, or captured or even alive."

"We have to think of the bigger picture," Hermione frowned.

"Bigger picture?" Fleur laugh, the sound vaguely hysterical, "You are my picture, 'ermione."

"What about your family?" Hermione frowned; she didn't want to leave. She knew she had to but every part of her being begged her to stay, Stay with Fleur and her warm, safe arms and the light scent that always made her smile. "They are safe, you are not," Fleur shrugged, gripping Hermione's hand.

"The muggleborns need someone to help," Hermione murmured.

"Let me come," Fleur suggested.

"No, you would be a target, so would your family and your whole community," Hermione shook her head.

"'Ermione, please," Fleur begged, tucking the girl under her chin and holding her close. Fleur pulled Hermione tighter, as if she could absorb the girl and never have to face losing her. "I'm so sorry," Hermione whispered, her eyes beginning to tear.

"You are going, either way," Fleur guessed, and placed a slow, tender kiss on Hermione's lips. "I'm afraid so."

"Then take this," Fleur pressed a small ring into Hermione's palm, it was plain silver except for the triskele carved into the surface. "I have one too," Fleur murmured, pointing at her chest where a chain was visible. "It links us, so I will know if you are safe."

"Then my leaving is not so bad?" Hermione joked, leaning into Fleur's embrace.

"It is worse, I will know if you are hurting, but be able to do nothing," Fleur retorted. "You knew I would leave," Hermione sighed, "You organized the rings."

"I know you, mon amour, you are a bird that can not be caged," Fleur laughed sadly and placed a hand against Hermione face, "Nor should you be."

"Thank you," Hermione whispered forcefully.

"Please fly back to me," Fleur murmured, cobalt eyes mournful.

Hermione gazed at Fleur, the sun reflecting off her blonde hair, her azure eyes, usually so happy currently sunk with tears. Her cherry lips were downturned in sadness and the hand she held against Hermione's cheek shook ever so slightly. Hermione was drawn to her, connected to her, relied on her, after such a short time. It was more than trust and friendship with a relationship combined into the heady mixture; it was everything. "Fleur," Hermione murmured, her tone gentle and shy. "Mon amour?" Fleur frowned, sensing the change in tone.

"I-" Hermione cleared her throat, "Merlin, this is harder than I thought. I don't know when, or how, really or even why, but," Hermione leveled her gaze with Fleur's, "I love you," Hermione admitted, blushing deeply.

Fleur blinked in surprise before she smiled, wide and brilliant as she embraced the young with before her, pressing her lips to the girl's temple, brow, nose and finally lips. "I love you too, mon amour," Fleur smiled contentedly.

"I'm still leaving," Hermione murmured, knowing it would ruin the eutrophic feeling of the moment. "Even though you love me?" Fleur sighed.

"I love them too," Hermione reasoned, leaning her head against Fleur's shoulder.

"Then I will be with you until the moment you leave," Fleur decided resolutely.

The boys were waiting anxiously, pacing and glancing about the ancient trees as if they too could feel the old magic. "Hermione," Harry grinned when he saw her, but frowned when he noticed Fleur. "It's all right," Hermione assured him and accepted his hug and then Ron's. "We really have to move," Ron fretted.

"I know," Hermione nodded and turned to Fleur. The Veela was watching her with a sad acceptance that wrenched at Hermione's heart. She stepped up to the Veela, ignoring the boys for the moment. "I love you," Fleur murmured, wrapping Hermione in her arms. "I love you too," Hermione whispered, pulling Fleur close.

"I'll come back, I promise."

"If you don't I will find you, no matter where you fly," Fleur vowed.

"The skies is a pretty big place," Hermione joked weakly.

"'Ermione," Fleur replied seriously, "I will find you."

"I'm already counting down the days," Hermione whispered, craning her neck to kiss Fleur. It wasn't heated it was slow and sad; two lovers that knew it could be months before they met again. Hermione pulled back and wordlessly returned to the boys, tears in her eyes.

Harry and Ron were caught between surprise and confusion, though they were wise enough not to comment. They joined hands and Hermione fixed her gaze on Fleur, memorizing its planes one last time before she felt the familiar tug of apparition and she was pulled away from her angel. Leaving half her heart in the forest she turned her mind to the battle to come. She would survive, so she could find Fleur again.

_With Fleur_

The Veela's heart tore as she watched her love vanish. Her Hermione who had at last admitted to love. Fleur would burn down the world if it meant being with Hermione when the war finished. Until then she relied on the gentle hum of the ring on the chain around her neck to tell her that Hermione was safe. She knew the second Hermione was in danger she would find the girl and damn the consequences.

That's what love is. Nothing compares to finding true love, because once you do, all else is obsolete. She'd found Hermione and she was never letting go. She gripped the ring around her neck and gazed at the place where Hermione had vanished.

"_I love you," Hermione, blushing deeply._

In the end that was all Fleur needed, more than air, more than safety more than sleep. Because she had that, everything else would be all right. They were connected, by magic, by love and by thought and that would get them through anything. Even war.

_That was so hard to write. I hope you guys want a sequel; I don't want to leave them apart. I hope it wasn't too cheesy. I was so happy Hermione finally said I love you and it was me that was putting it off in the first place! Anyway, thank you all so much for following and if you want a sequel just drop me a line. Thank you all-Lark_


	18. Authors NoteSequel

_Hey Guys, just letting you know that I have finally published the sequel. It's called 'House On A Hill' and I would love you to read and review-Lark_


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